A Family Man
by SSJL
Summary: An unexpected visitor makes Booth doubt everything he has taught Brennan about the importance of family. ON HIATUS.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I am a mentally challenged person for starting this fic. All you people who were supposed to tell me NOT to write it DIDN'T DO A VERY GOOD JOB.**

**But. It's started. Whatcha gonna do?**

**This is going to be one of those long, winding road fics. There will be no quick resolution. It hurts me as much as it hurts you.**

**Thanks to the lovely nicolemack, who's going to help me make this NOT some emo soap opera crap. We can all be thankful for THAT.**

**--**

It was amazing how natural and good it felt...strolling into the Jeffersonian, giving a big smile to the secretary in the lobby and making her blush, greeting the security guards who used to yell at him for trying to get in without his passkey, hopping up into the sterility of the lab to see his Squints…and it was made all the more amazing by how much he used to _hate _it. What a difference a few years made; _these _few years had turned the bane of his existence into his home.

"Hey, hey," he said cheerfully, walking across the platform to see Bones, Cam, and Hodgins hovering over a set of remains. "C'mon, Bones. It's that time."

She looked up with a cursory glance at him, and then her watch, before turning her attention back to the bones in front of her. "What's so special about 1:14 in the afternoon?"

Cam gave him a smile, then a look that almost passed for affection at Dr. Brennan. "I think it means that it's time Booth was here to steal you away for lunch."

He pointed at her with a wink. "Bingo."

Bones circled the table, playing her hard-to-get act. "I can't be 'stolen' right now. I'm very busy." She was studiously ignoring him.

He knew the routine, and affected his second-most persuasive tone. "Awh, those bones aren't going anywhere. And I'll have you in and out in forty-five minutes. Help me out, Hodgins? Cam?" Waggling his eyebrows, he appealed to Bones' colleagues.

The pathologist rolled her eyes at him, but complied. "You'd probably be more focused and efficient if you eat a little something, Dr. Brennan. It's good for your work."

His partner paused, considering. "I suppose that's logical." Finally, she flashed her brilliant eyes up at him, and held them this time. "Forty-five minutes?"

"Not one more," he promised solemnly.

"Fine." She pulled off her latex gloves one-by-one, stepping away from the table. "Just let me grab my things from my office."

He grinned in victory, turning when he felt Angela bump his shoulder as she passed him.

"You're late," she scolded. "She's been checking her watch for the last half-hour."

"Can't be _too _predictable," he told her, and received a knowing smile in return before the artist continued her journey back to her own studio.

"Have a good lunch," she called over her shoulder, hips swaying as she walked away. Brennan's best friend was all too cued into their habits and routines and ways of relating to each other, more from her own observations than anything her friend had told her. And Booth knew for a fact she knew that he was in love with Bones. Actually, he knew _most _of the people here knew it.

It didn't bother him so much anymore, people knowing, once that information had sunk into his own recently-operated-on skull. The feelings he had for her…whether they were caused by the tumor, or by chemicals, or by fate, or by God Himself…were there, stubborn and unfading, and as much as he struggled with them, he was also used to them by now. He was used to the thrill he got from every accidental touch, the agony of every thoughtless comment on her part…used to keeping it to himself because he _knew, _in some deep part of him, that she couldn't handle that information right now. Gordon Gordon had advocated patience, and patience was something he had.

For now, he simply enjoyed the time he spent with Bones, their growing closeness warming him. When it was time, he'd tell her the thing that everybody knew…and he'd hope to God it wouldn't ruin this lovely, comfortable familiarity that he'd come to depend on so much.

"Ready?" She surprised him by sidling up to him, shaking her keys and giving him an expectant half-smile.

"Always," he quipped, turning and heading for the exit with her while they argued about who was going to drive. He got her to acquiesce by promising not to give her a hard time about getting the bill this time.

In the car, she complained to him about the contract her agent was pressuring her to sign. "It would require two public appearances a month. I don't like being locked into those; sometimes the nature of my work doesn't allow me to devote that kind of attention to my fan following," she griped.

He tipped his sunglasses down his nose as he glanced from the highway to her, then back again. "She's trying to pin you down because you're always backing out of the ones you schedule."

"No I'm not," she insisted. "At least I don't try to. Sometimes our cases require me to make last minute changes…"

"Uh huh," he teased her. "She knows your shenanigans."

"I don't have 'shenanigans'," she said primly, and he repressed a grin.

"You're right. _I _have shenanigans. Your life isn't near as exciting."

Her look was indignant. "You don't have shenanigans either."

"Oh, untrue. I am the _king _of shenanigans. I could out-shenanigan you any day."

"Like what?" she glared, although he could tell she was only half-taking him seriously.

"A gentleman never reveals his shenanigans to a lady," he said somberly, turning onto the main strip.

She snorted softly. "Well, I'd be interested to see _that."_

He laughed quietly. "Maybe someday, Bones. Maybe someday."

By the time they reached the diner, they'd settled comfortably into this bicker-and-bantering thing they did so well, that he looked forward to every day when he woke up. She never disappointed in that department.

She ordered ricotta eggplant rolls; he almost ordered a chicken sandwich before remembering one of their recent cases that had put him off poultry for awhile, then sticking with the safer BLT. After some more small talk, he told her about his last weekend with Parker.

"He wanted to know how he could tell if a girl liked him."

"What did you tell him?" she laughed as she reached for her glass of water.

"I told him that no girl likes any boy until she's at least in middle school."

"Well that's not true," she insisted.

"_Like-_liking a boy? No way, Bones. Girls that age are only interested in ponies and sparkles."

"I _like-_liked a boy when I was in second grade."

He snorted. "Who? Albert Einstein? Isaac Newton? Those don't count as boys."

"No," she said in indignation, pausing as they received their food. She took a forkful and blew on it to cool it off. "His name was Micah Fibick. He'd always share his cookies with me during lunch." She smiled at the memory. "I always thought he had the prettiest green eyes."

"Cookies." He snapped his fingers before he picked up his sandwich. "Ponies, sparkles, and cookies. I forgot that one."

She gave him a look. "It wasn't _all _about the cookies, Booth."

"Who are you kidding? It still is." He grinned at her before taking a bite of his lunch, reveling in her exasperated look before it turned into a curious one. Her brow was furrowed.

"What's wrong, Bones?" he asked, voice slightly muffled by his sandwich.

"I think that's my dad over there."

"Huh?" Turning in the booth, he looked behind him; indeed, there was a gray-haired man a few tables away. "Are you sure?"

"Fairly certain." Her face was screwed up, and _he _was "fairly certain" it probably had something to do with the fact that across from the mystery man sat an equally-mysterious redhead. "I'm going to go say hi."

"Bones, maybe you should wait until after we eat…" he tried, wiping his lips with his napkin and getting ready to place a hand on her arm, urge her to stay. But she was already on her feet and making her way to the other side of the restaurant. Sighing and abandoning his napkin in a ball on the table, he followed her.

"Dad?"

The man and his companion looked up, surprised, before Max recovered. "Hi, honey! What a surprise. How long have you been here?"

"About fifteen minutes," Bones replied, eyes flitting to the woman across from him. She was nicely dressed, maybe in her early fifties, with a lovely smile that she was flashing now.

"And Booth, too! I didn't see you--I'm glad you came over to say hello." Max squeezed his daughter's hand, then turned to the other woman. "Janine, this is my beautiful daughter and her partner."

"Oh." The woman's eyes brightened and she stood to give Bones a vigorous handshake. "Temperance, I've heard so much about you. It's lovely to meet you."

"Oookay," Bones drew out, looking at her father questioningly.

"Honey," Max stood now, in full introduction mood. "This is Janine Morrow. She's part of the Science Educator club who I meet with every Tuesday. Remember, I always come to work Wednesday with all those great new experiments for the kids? Janine teaches middle school biology. She knows all the good stuff."

"I see." Booth could tell a forced smile when he saw it, and Bones was doing it now. "So are you here trading experiment ideas?"

Max hesitated, and traded a quick glance with Janine. "No, not today. Just lunch." He proactively avoided the awkward silence that was sure to follow, before it started. "How about the two of you? Have a big case?"

"Nope, just lunch for us, too," Booth interjected, taking Bones' arm. "Which we should get back to before it gets cold." He wanted to take away the need for Max to ask them to join him before it was even on the table. "Was great to see you, Max."

"Awh, okay. Well it was good to see the both of you." Max leaned in to kiss Bones on the forehead. "I'll call you later in the week, okay? We should have dinner and play cards soon. We haven't done that in awhile."

"Alright, Dad." She was still looking at Janine suspiciously as Booth guided her away.

"It was nice to meet you!" Janine called after them, and Bones blinked at her before she had to turn around and walk straight to avoid tripping.

Booth watched her carefully as she slid back into her seat, unfolded her napkin and smoothed it with just a hint of obsessiveness, ensuring it lay completely flat on her lap. The easy mood was broken.

"Bones?" He raised his eyebrows at her. "You okay?"

"Sure," she said just a notch too brightly. "Why wouldn't I be? It's really a lovely day, isn't it?"

Gazing at her intently for a moment, he read everything he needed to know—_Don't push me. Please. _He knew the message well, so he responded accordingly with a smile.

"Yeah. It's a nice day. How's your eggplant, Bones?"

Her posture reflected relief. "Fine. Just perfect." She took another bite, then… "We only have ten more minutes before we should leave. Eat fast."

Sighing, he returned to his sandwich, hoping that this particular conversation he knew was coming wouldn't take as long as the other revelation he was holding for the perfect time and place.

--

As fortune would have it, it took only a few hours. Work was blessedly done for the day. He had changed into jeans, heated up and scarfed down some leftovers, and was getting ready to make a quick run to the beer distributor to pick up a case of Yuengling lager when she knocked on his door. When he opened it, she walked through and into his living area with nary a 'hello,' looking troubled.

"Hi to you too, Bones," he said slowly, shutting the door and turning to face her.

"I'm angry with him. It doesn't make any sense, but I am," she fretted, running a hand through her hair. She knew he'd know what she was talking about, and he certainly wouldn't pretend _not _to.

"It's okay to feel that way," he told her, moving closer and easing back on the armrest of the couch.

"No, no it's not," she insisted, pacing now. "My mother has been gone—dead--for years now. And my father is a very charming and attractive middle-aged man. It makes sense that he would enjoy the company of a woman, and that a woman would be interested in him. I shouldn't begrudge him that. But…"

"But…" he encouraged her, wanting her to get all this out.

"But…" She sighed frustratedly. "It feels like he's cheating. Like it's too soon."

"That makes sense," he soothed, standing upright again and moving to take her shoulders in his hands, guiding her to sit on the couch. "You haven't had as much time to adjust to the death of your mother as Max has. What has been almost two decades for him, has been just a few years for you. You had to grieve for her all over again."

"But that shouldn't matter," she sighed. "It has nothing to do with _me." _Pausing, she looked down. "He told me once that Mom was…his one true love. That he'd never felt that way about a woman before that, and he never would again. And you know I don't really believe all that. But…it made me feel good. I hadn't even considered the possibility of how it would feel--if he'd have feelings for someone else." She looked up now, and he settled in next to her with his hand on her thigh. "And I must say it feels uncomfortable."

"Oh, Bones," he sighed_, _putting an arm around her. "I'd be more worried if it _didn't _make you feel anything. He's your Dad. You're gonna be protective of him…and of your mother's memory. That's what happens when you love people."

She still looked unconvinced, but at least didn't argue with him this time. "You think?"

"Of course. Rational, logical…it doesn't apply to family.'

"Well I don't like it," she sulked, and he chuckled at her.

"That's fine. But do me a favor…don't be embarrassed to talk to your Dad? Because he loves _you, _too—and your Mom…and I suspect he already knows how you feel. And he's going to help you feel better."

She leaned against him just slightly. "I guess I could do that."

"And, who knows. Maybe what you saw today was a really bad date, and you won't have to worry about Mean Janine anymore."

That got a smile from her, and he felt inordinately proud of her. "She seemed nice enough, I guess."

"She's gotta be nice, to put up with _your _old man." Her laugh prompted his, and he squeezed a little bit before he released her. "No matter what happens, Bones—_nothing _and _no one _will ever take the place of your mother. For you _or _Max. I know it."

"Thanks, Booth. I'm glad to have you to talk to about these things." Her smile, as always, melted his heart, and he resisted the familiar desire to touch her hair, cup her cheek…pull her closer inch-by-inch until the space between them dissolved into a warm, wet bliss. _Some day. _He was simply so grateful to be the person she came to; the expert in matters of the heart.

"Anytime, Bones." The moment of intimacy hung between them for a few more blessed seconds before he needed to move on or risk doing something stupid. "Hey, you wanna go with me to grab some beers? I need to stock up for the weekend."

"Nah. Thanks. I think I should go talk to my Dad." She stood up.

"You don't waste any time, huh? You impress me." Rising to join her, he walked her slowly to the door. "Just be honest with him, 'kay? You'll be glad you did. Family trumps everything, Bones."

"So you say," she murmured, giving him one last grateful look as he held the door open for her. "See you tomorrow?"

"Of course. Can't get away from me even if you tried."

"I'd never try," she said simply before turning to leave, and he reveled in the power of her overly-literal honesty.

Upon her departure, he walked back to the kitchen to gather his coat and his wallet. That beer was really calling to him. Football, a cold one, a visit from Bones…it was shaping up to be a decent night.

Before he even pulled on his coat, a knock sounded again, and he smiled. "Need another pep talk, Bones?" he called out as he strolled across the living room to open the door again. "I'm a never-ending fountain of wisdom over he-…" He stopped short at the unfamiliar face that appeared in his doorstep. "Oh, I'm sorry. I thought…." He shook his head. "Can I help you?"

The woman…girl?...at his door was staring at him with big, round eyes, and seemed momentarily dumbstruck before she found her voice. "Are you…Seeley Booth?" She was standing ramrod straight, and gripped a piece of paper with both hands in front of her.

"Uh, yeah." He looked behind at the jacket he had dropped on the couch. "What can I do for you?"

Her hesitancy was making him impatient; if Bones wasn't here, all he wanted to do was get his beer. "I, uh…I was hoping we could talk."

"Talk? Listen, if you're selling something or want a donation, I really can't afford it right now, I got a kid and the rent in this city is crazy and I just don't have extra money…" Holding up his finger to her, he went to retrieve his coat before he returned. "And I was just about to step out, so if you don't mind…"

"I think you're my brother," she blurted out, effectively freezing him in the middle of his attempts at sliding on the coat.

It only took a second for his voice to return. "I think you got the wrong guy, hon." He shrugged the leather coat the rest of the way on. "I have a pain-in-the-ass brother, and that's about it. But I wish you the best of luck in finding whoever you're looking for…"

"Here." She thrust the piece of paper to his chest, shutting him up again as he held it to himself, staring at her. "Look," she encouraged. Her dark eyes were pleading.

He didn't want to look. Not now. He wanted her to take her big eyes and her mysterious papers and leave right this second. But now, holding it in his hands, he felt helpless. All she was asking was for him to _look. _A simple request, that cost him nothing. How could he not oblige?

Tipping over the glossy paper to reveal the front, his eyes turned down to it. A picture. The girl in front of him, looking maybe a year or two younger with longer hair, but certainly _her. _A woman with light chestnut hair, with a smile on the verge of laughing, her arm around the girl's waist. And on the other side, the recipient of the girl's embrace…

His father.

His heart slammed shut at the moment. The paper's edges crinkled under his fingers.

"Can we talk now?" the girl asked softly.

His eyes tilted back up to meet hers. The corners of her mouth tilted up in a conciliatory smile. She was as non-threatening a visitor as any to come to his door.

He shoved the picture back into her hands. "No," he whispered. "We can't."

And he slammed the door in her face.

--

**A/N: In case you're wondering. Ahem. I have NOT forgotten about Be With Me. I know it would appear that I have. But the problem has been massive indecision on my part about where exactly I want to take it. But I'm in full brainstorming mode!!**

**This one is dying to be written, though, and wouldn't be denied. So here we are...**

**Loves to all.  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: A little something to tide you over until the new epi (unless you are from Canada and have already seen the new epi. In which case you are a brat)...I so appreciate your great responses to the first chapter and hope you'll continue to leave feedback, as it may be helpful to me as I choose the paths to guide this story.**

**And of course it's not his daughter, peeps. Booth is only allowed to have the baby he's already got, and his future ones with Bren. Anything else is sacrilege.;)**

**--  
**

"So. They've known each other for a few months now. And he's seen her three times…on dates, I guess. But he hasn't slept with her yet."

He'd been perusing the document she'd handed him pertaining to their last case, but now he looked up and wrinkled his nose. "Why do you know that? You _asked _your father about his sex life?"

She shrugged. "I was curious."

Shaking his head, he pulled up a chair to the backside of her desk, easing into it. "How do you feel now that you talked to him?"

Crossing her arms, she pursed her lips a little in thought. "Better, I suppose. He was very understanding and didn't make me feel badly for being so irrational. He also assured me of my and my mother's relative position as the women in his life." A small smile graced her lips. "It's the top position."

He could help but return that smile. "Of course it is, Bones."

"It still feels uncomfortable to me--his dating--but…I'd imagine that feeling will subside the more time I have to get accustomed to it. And that it will remain beneficial for me to keep an open and honest line of communication with my father."

"Thatta girl," he approved, smile fading as he gazed into her trusting eyes. He was proud of her; she'd been _so good _with heart stuff lately, and some of it he'd even deign to take credit for. Right now, though, he found himself almost jealous of her, how easily she'd resolved all this.

_He _had no one to turn to with this one. The easiest way to deal with what had happened last night was to forget all about it.

Except he couldn't. He could barely fucking concentrate.

"So are _you _going to tell me what's wrong?" she prodded as if reading his mind, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"Nothing's wrong," he tried, futilely.

"Are you sure? Because you appear very distracted today, and I've noticed that twitch in your jaw twice since you've been here, which usually indicates stress on your part. Also, you haven't shaved today which typically means you overslept. And you only do that when you've slept fitfully and…"

"Alright, alright," he groused. It was times like these when he couldn't fathom how she didn't know about his feelings for her. She could read every fucking other thing.

"Someone visited me last night after you left."

Her brow wrinkled. "Who?"

Reaching in his pocket, he found the folded-up picture and pushed it to her, silently.

After he'd closed the door on his unwanted guest last night, a few moments had passed before that picture was slid back under his door. This time, there was writing on the back. _Call when you're ready to talk, _along with a scribbled phone number with a Virginia area code. It had pissed him off, that she'd used the word 'when'. He'd immediately crumpled it up and threw it in the garbage can.

An hour later, he'd pulled it back out. He didn't know why. Maybe it was because he knew Bones would want to see.

He fingers made an attempt at smoothing out the wrinkles as she stared at it. "I don't know these people. But this man has a similar jaw structure to yours, and the setting of his eyes is familiar as well." She looked up, unsurprised. "Your father, I'm assuming."

"That'd be him," he responded dryly, standing and rubbing his face.

"I see." She glanced at it once more before turning her attention back to him. "And the person who visited you…"

"The girl." He gestured without looking.

"Oh." She hesitated, obviously worried about pressing this conversation that he wasn't taking part in easily. "What did you talk about?"

He looked up at her disbelievingly. "We didn't talk, Bones. I sent her away."

She didn't respond, but her brow furrowed, troubled. He was on the defense, and the expression was all he needed to snap. "Why shouldn't I have sent her away? I didn't ask for her to come. I made a decision a long time ago not to worry about what happened to my old man; he's not a part of my life and I don't want him to be. Why should I have to change my mind about that for a stranger?"

"You're right, Booth, you shouldn't have to change your mind," Bones responded quickly, probably wondering how she got into trouble without saying a word. "You have every right to decide who you do and don't let into your life."

"Yeah, damn straight," he growled, looking at her and still being annoyed by the uncertainty he saw in her eyes. "But what?"

"But nothing."

"No, just say it. I want to answer your questions," he insisted.

She sighed, laying the picture face down on her desk. "I'm just…surprised, that's all. You told me yesterday that family trumps everything."

His fists clenched. He needed her to understand this, but…he didn't quite understand it himself. "Family, Bones, yes. Family are the ones who take care of you, look out for you, like my Pops did for me, and your Squints do for you. My dad didn't do those things. He was too drunk to love us. The way he treated Jared and my mom…" Anger boiled hotly inside him at the memory, and he knew he needed to stop this before he punched a hole in one of Bones' well-decorated office walls. Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to relax a little. "He doesn't deserve my consideration."

Bones spoke quietly. "That's how I felt about my father when he came back, too."

"That's different. Your father loves you."

"You don't think your father loved you?"

He squirmed under her innocent questions. The fact was that he had contemplated that very issue a thousand times, and had never come up with a satisfactory answer. He'd so rarely seen his father sober, and when he was drunk he was angry, impetuous, quick to harsh words and violence. During the time in his life when _nothing _was more important than his father's approval, he more frequently received a literal slap in the face.

But then there were other times….just a few Booth remembered him being sober. Once there was a fishing trip, him and Jared and his dad out on a boat. They'd been out there all day; his old man had caught five, Jared two. Booth himself couldn't catch anything to save his life. His dad had lingered out on the water with him until it got dark and he started to shiver, thinking his luck would change if he just waited this one out. Finally they had to head home. Jared had teased him mercilessly about being a bad fisherman, but his dad…

His dad had examined his fishing pole, then clapped him on the shoulder. "It's the rod, son. You can't catch anything with this; we'll get you a carbon fiber one for Christmas, okay?" He'd smiled reassuringly. It was one of his rare sober days. Booth knew, at least a little even then, that it was a lie; there was _nothing _wrong with his rod, it was the very same one his brother had.

His father _was _capable of kindness. That's what was so upsetting now, when he remembered just how infrequent it was. The fucking booze.

"I don't know," he muttered now. "If he did, I think it just pisses me off more. And it's not like he's the one here; it's his _daughter. _Which just proves, if he _knows _she's here, that he's still a coward."

Bones' face was sympathetic, and he found himself suddenly uncomfortable with the shift that just occurred in the past five minutes…_she _was the one with the loving father, skilled and knowledgeable about the art of forgiving; the one with the _family. _He was the broken and angry one, the hard-hearted one. He was suddenly struck with regret for even bringing this up.

"Let's just let it go, Bones. We've got more important things to do." He brushed the sleeves of his jacket, as if he could brush off this whole unpleasant conversation. "I'll give you a call later if we get a case."

"Are you sure?" she asked, but he was already three quarters of the way to the door.

"Very."

"You forgot this," she called out, holding up the picture as his hand reached the doorknob.

He considered for a split second before simply saying, "Keep it. Throw it out," and then leaving her behind. It was out of his hands now. And it was a blessed relief.

--

Despite his assertions of business and the momentary respite from the burden of that picture, he was still having a great deal of trouble focusing today. His irritability was enough to keep co-workers from bothering him too much, but his racing mind prevented efficiency, even in the tedium of paperwork.

He wondered about the girl he kicked from his doorstep…how old she was. What her motives were. How she even _found _him. He tried to answer each of those questions with "it doesn't matter," but they seemed to haunt him anyway.

Ever since his father had left his family, Booth had repressed his curiosity about what happened to him. It always struck him as the most likely possibility that he'd hung on a few more years, drinking and maybe begging until he died of cirrhosis somewhere. Of course, he always knew there was a possibility that he was still alive; maybe having started a new life somewhere, making _other _people miserable. On the edges of his consciousness, he might have even acknowledged the prospect that his dad might have pulled his shit together, and was not just alive but alive and _well._

Still, the evidence of his father's continued existence…in the form of a young, doe-eyed girl who'd looked so hopeful as she pushed the picture into his hand…had hit him hard. Now that he knew her connection to him, he noticed things about her in spite of himself. The thick, dark hair and brown eyes, and olive skin, were the dominant genes in his family…very Booth. The curls came from elsewhere, as did the height…she could be no more than 5'2". She looked like a teenager, fighting with the remnants of baby fat; the kind of pretty that would probably never make it beyond cute to beautiful, although he suspected she might be older from the way she carried herself.

And the smile.

His father smiled so rarely, he hardly remembered what it looked like. But he was smiling in the picture, and the girl's was a solid match.

Those smiles didn't look forced. The twinkles in their eyes seemed genuine. And his dad looked…_clearer…_than he ever recalled seeing him.

"Stop it, Seeley," he muttered to himself under his breath. He never thought he'd see a day when he _preferred _obsessing about being in love with Bones, but right now he wished it was the foremost thing on his mind again. At the moment, when he thought about her, the first thing he felt was the sense of being an enormous hypocrite.

He left work early, turning down happy hour with his buddy Terry in favor of picking up the case of beer he'd forgotten about last night, nursing a decent portion of it well into the evening. His phone rung twice; once it was Bones, and he ignored it, not wanting to pick up the conversation where it left off today, _or _hear the worried tone in her voice. The second time it was his son, and he _did _take that one, putting aside his morbid thoughts to laugh at Parker's jokes and stories. There wasn't a tragedy in the universe that would make him forget about being a good father. It was just too fucking important.

Before he went to bed, half-buzzed on all the beer and still not feeling any lighter, he listened to his message; Bones wanted to get coffee before work tomorrow. He let out an internal groan, but still texted her to agree. Despite his annoyance with the world, he knew she'd only get more concerned about him if he avoided her. And he wasn't mad at _her._

Yet.

--

Bones never minced words. He'd just sat down across from her in the coffee shop, steaming cup in hand, when she pushed the now-too-fucking-familiar picture at him, blurted it out.

"Her name is Gabrielle."

He could feel the blood rushing to face, a sick feeling coiling in his stomach. "Bones. You _didn't."_

"She's 20, and a V.C.U. student. She's here with her fiancé. She's known about you all her life, but something prompted her to come to find you now. She said she'd rather talk to you about that in person."

Forcing words through gritted teeth, he responded. "_Why _would you call her? Why? I told you I didn't want anything to do with this."

She took a deep breath, pushing a strand of silky hair behind her ear. "I know your feelings are clouded by the anger you feel toward your father…just like mine were. But I also know your beliefs about the importance of family, and I didn't want you to miss this opportunity to know your sister just because you're mad at your dad. At least not without knowing what she wants first."

"Bones, that…" He took a breath, not trusting himself not to scream at her. Which she probably deserved, but he didn't want to get arrested for domestic abuse in a coffee shop. "That was _so _incredibly intrusive."

"You helped me with my family issues," she justified.

"Because you asked me to help! I did _not _ask you!" He rubbed his forehead disbelievingly.

"I'm sorry, Booth. I've obviously upset you. But it doesn't change my suggestion that you talk to her yourself. She's not going to pressure you to see your father." She paused, and then her voice dropped to the vulnerable tone he could rarely resist. "She just wants to know you. I can understand that…wanting to know your family."

He sat the cup he'd been holding ever since she ambushed him down with a hard thud and forced his voice to stay even. "Bones. I want you to know what I'm not abandoning you. But I _am _fuming at you at this moment, and want to leave this situation before I shoot another clown. Do you understand that?"

Thankfully she nodded, reasonable to the very core, and he stood, grabbing his jacket and coffee to take his leave. Before he made it a step away, she had grabbed his hand. Pissed at her or not, her touch was still electric, and it shocked the movement out of him.

She pressed the picture…and the number…into his hand. "Just think about it," she said softly. "That's all anybody can ask."

His immediate urge was to tell her he _had _thought about it, and decided _abso-fucking-lutely not. _But instead, his hand closed, and the burden was back in his possession. "Yeah. I'll talk to you later."

He felt her eyes on him as he walked out the door, and felt the weight of her faith heavily on his shoulders.

--

He called his grandfather that night, because somehow talking to him always made him feel a little more secure.

"Shrimp! To what do I owe the pleasure? You having girl problems again?"

"I don't have girl problems, Pops," he sighed, and the older man snorted.

"I don't think so."

He changed the topic before his nosy grandfather could make the conversation any more awkward. "Pops, did you ever think about what you would do if Dad came back and wanted to see you?"

Hank's voice changed. "Did you hear from him, Seeley?"

"No. I just wondered if it ever crossed your mind."

"Of course it did. Of course it _does. _Just because he was a screw-up as a man and a father…he's still my son."

"So you think you'd talk to him?"

"Well. I don't know. I suppose it would depend on what he had to say."

"But you'd give him a chance to say it."

"What's going on, son? What's got you thinking all of this?"

Now he'd gotten his grandfather all worked up, and he groaned internally. "Nothing you have to worry about." He paused. "You know, in all the ways that counted, you were my Dad. I'm never going to forget that."

"I know that, Seeley. But hey, I don't want you to forget where you came from, either, okay? It's all a part of you. It all made you what you are."

"I won't forget. I can't," he said gloomily.

"Cheer up, boy. You've got a good life. And a pretty damn good heart. Use it, why don't you?"

He always enjoyed talking to Hank, but this time he felt no less troubled. Again, he pulled out the abused and abandoned photograph that had so recently landed in his possession.

This girl and him…Gabrielle, Bones had said her name was…they came from the same place. She was born innocent to the very same man who had once taken him fishing. The man who'd also given him a black eye when he accidentally dinged the car playing football with his brother.

Studying her face, he found it devoid of fear…at least for the photograph. Had she been hit, too? Had she grown up learning to keep a wide berth from the man, quietly cleaning up broken vodka bottles and calling work to tell them her dad was sick and wouldn't be in today? Had she had to explain away bruises and broken bones?

Or…was he a different father to her?

Both options angered him in different ways.

He found the unanswered questions played in his mind louder the more he told them to shut the fuck up.

This wasn't going to fade away easily. Not now.

He blamed Bones.

He should have known better than to leave that girl's number with her. Bones had come a long way in understanding people, just in the past few years. But discerning the difference between welcome assistance and unwanted intrusion...she wasn't quite there yet.

Yet the fact that she _wanted _to help…that she'd been taking to heart the things he'd been telling her about family…

Fuck, he didn't _want _his heart to be warmed right now. What did she have to _do _to make him love her less?

He eyed the phone warily.

He hadn't wanted to open this door.

But Bones had already turned the knob, and now he felt a centrifugal pull.

As he reached for his cell, he sighed under his breath. "Fuck me."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Continued thanks to nicolemack for her handholding, and to you all for your wonderfulness. I've been a prolific little fic-writer lately; it's all I want to do, probably because I know once this semester is over, my dissertation data collection will be done and I'll have no excuse to put off the REAL writing I have to finish. I'm embracing the ability to spend time on fic right now, however, so I do hope you enjoy the projects that I'm devoting my dwindling time to.**

**--**

Bones brought him a conciliatory coffee and bagel on Saturday morning, looking almost comically ashamed.

"So I talked to Sweets," she said, her eyes not meeting his.

"Yeah?" he prodded, closing the door behind her and opening the brown paper bag she'd handed him. Peering inside, he nodded his approval; poppyseed was his favorite. He prepared to take a big, doughy bite.

"He helped me see that my actions, no matter how well-intentioned, were a violation of your privacy and the trust you demonstrated by telling me about your sister. And I'm very, very sorry about that."

"Awh, now you told _Sweets?" _Seeing her stricken look, as if realizing how _else _she'd messed up, he decided to make both their lives easier by simply accepting her apology. "We all make mistakes sometimes, Bones." He gave her a reassuring, if not forced, smile and rubbed her arm. "Even genius scientists, occasionally." A tinge of lingering resentment remained from the decision she'd forced, but looking into her genuinely repentant, misty blue eyes, there was no way he could be short with her.

"What I _should _have done was talk to you more and explained why I thought you should do this."

Sighing, he pointed her towards the kitchen. "Well, as it turns out, you don't have to. I've managed to guilt myself into doing it, all by myself."

"Guilt?" she asked, making her way in and setting her coffee down on the table.

"It's not Gabrielle's fault that my Dad was the way he was. I'm going to sit down with her. Resolve her curiosity. And then…we can go back to normal."

Bones pulled two small plates from his cupboard, glaring a little when he waved off the offered dishware in favor of eating straight from his napkin. "So _you _aren't curious at all? Booth, this girl is your sister."

"My half-sister," he replied automatically.

She was quiet for a moment. "Maybe you should talk to Sweets about this too. He might be able to help you resolve your conflicted feelings."

He tried to hold back his frustrated sigh. "Bones, I've become an expert on dealing with conflicted feelings on my own. The only thing Sweets is going to do is turn it into some sort of…_issue." _The word came out particularly distastefully.

"I don't know, Booth. It seems to me that it's already an issue. Once these things are out in the open, they are difficult to re-contain."

His eyes narrowed. "If you keep talking, I'm going to tell Sweets that you like psychology."

"You wouldn't."

"I would. He'll start to call you up and want to have lovely chats about psychosexual stages and superegos and _emotional intimacy. _Unscientific stuff, Bones. For _hours."_

"Alright, alright," she groused. "Don't talk to Sweets."

They ate for a few minutes in not-quite-uncomfortable silence. But it was clear both of them couldn't quite let it go.

Finally, she spoke as she dabbed sesames off her lips with a napkin. "Do you want me to come with you when you meet Gabrielle?"

His first thought was immediate…_Of course, I want you with me everywhere…_but it was followed by another that was just as strong…_I don't want to share you._

And he didn't; he was resigned to meeting this person so that maybe they could both reach some peace, but he didn't particularly want to give any of himself to her. And Bones was one of his most precious commodities.

"This might be one of those things I better do alone," he told her, unsure if the look he saw on her face reflected relief or disappointment. "But thank you."

She nodded. "I really think you're doing the right thing, Booth."

"That's what I aim for," he said a little tightly.

But he couldn't help but wonder why doing the right thing felt so unsettling.

--

They'd agreed on a coffee shop, although not the one he frequented with Bones; he preferred somewhere more neutral, with no memories attached to it. He went early, wanting some time to prepare himself and think of what he wanted to say. In the eighteen minutes he sat alone, he didn't come up with anything. Combined with the coffee Bones had brought him this morning, he'd already had four cups and was starting to feel the jumpiness of being over-caffeinated. At least, that's what he convinced himself was making him jumpy.

He saw her enter and remembered her immediately; her curly brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing a gray Rams sweatshirt and those unsettlingly familiar eyes. Before he could greet her, he saw that she wasn't alone; following her was a young man not too much older than Gabrielle herself, darker skin, and intelligent-looking with glasses sitting atop a strong nose.

She saw him before he could call attention to his position, and she smiled and make a beeline for him. "Seeley! It's good to see you again."

Standing, he returned her smile, and was gratified when she chose to shake his hand vigorously rather than attempt to hug him. "Hello, Gabrielle."

"You can call me Gabby, if you want. Not many people call me Gabrielle."

The nickname seemed to suit her, but still felt a little personal for his liking.

She took the arm of the man behind her, presenting him to Booth. "This is my boyf-…fiancé," she corrected herself; obviously the engagement was new.

The young man extended his hand. "Evonis Mitchell. You can call me Von."

Gabrielle was watching the exchange with anxiety. "I hope you don't mind. He didn't want me to come alone this time."

Truthfully, he'd prefer as few witnesses to this as possible, but he understood…Gabrielle didn't know him much better than he knew her. If the woman _he _loved insisted on meeting a strange man she thought was her brother, he'd insist in kind that he accompany her. "It's not a problem. Have a seat."

She gave a small relieved smile as she sat down, and the two men followed; Von beside her, and Booth across from her. "I can't tell you how happy I am that you agreed to meet me. I wasn't sure it would happen after…"

"After I slammed my door on you?" he said bluntly, taking a lesson from Bones in telling it like it was.

Gabrielle looked downward, flushing a bit.

"Yeah, that wasn't my best showing. I apologize," he said, surprising himself by meaning it. He prided himself on courtesy to others, and no matter how much this girl had surprised him, he should have behaved more maturely. "I…wasn't expecting you."

She was fidgeting. "I know. I couldn't find your phone number, or I would have called. Just had your address."

"How _did _you find my address?" he wondered.

"Google," she and Von both said simultaneously, with an air of 'duh.' He made a mental note to go home immediately after this meeting was through and change every one of his computer settings.

"Von's doing a summer journalism workshop in D.C.," she told him. "When he told me he was coming…I knew I had to go to, and try to meet you. It just…felt like it was time."

"How did you find out about _me?" _It was the more important question.

"I've always known about you. You weren't a secret. You _or _Jared."

The use of his brother's name shouldn't have surprised him, but it did, and that feeling was quickly followed by one of discomfort.

"I'd been waiting…I guess for Dad to do it himself. To stop being so ashamed. But…" She trailed off. "I was tired of waiting, I guess. And I figured, considering the history there…you might be hesitant to open the door to this."

Well. Apparently his thought about being a stranger to Gabrielle was mistaken. He was practically an open fucking book.

She barreled ahead. "Mom and Dad met at AA. She said there was something romantic about meeting someone who's as much a loser as you are. They got married on the 1 year anniversary of Dad's sobriety, and I was born 5 months later." She paused, as if considering her next words. "They're not losers anymore."

He'd been prepared for ambivalence when Gabrielle started talking about her…_his…_father. Because he had _known _she would…how could she not? It was what they had in common. But he wasn't prepared to be sucker-punched by it all over again. Trying to repress the half-sick feeling that swirled in his gut, he took a sip of coffee before speaking.

"Listen…Gabrielle…I agreed to come here and meet you. Talk to you. And I know that you probably hoped for something different, but that 'you' is very specific. I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about…him." Despite the presence of another man at the table, there was no doubt left about who 'him' was.

The young woman across from him looked just a little taken aback, before she looked downward and let out a breath through pursed lips. "I guess you really are mad at him."

"It's not anger," Booth replied, not one-hundred percent sure if that was true, but feeling compelled to say it anyway. "I've put it to rest. And I don't necessarily feel like…what did you say?...opening the door to it now."

"No, I understand," she said quietly, but her face reflected a disappointment she couldn't hide. Still, her empathy seemed genuine. "I can't even imagine…having experienced him the way that you did." Her fiancé, who'd been allowing them uninterrupted interaction, seemed to recognize her struggle and he took her hand comfortingly.

A sense of irony struck Booth then; Gabrielle was the one who'd had the good father, yet she was the one who was being comforted. A desire to have Bones here swept through him, then quickly departed. He didn't want her to see him this way.

Anxious to make this just a little less awkward, he shifted the topic. "But we can talk about you. Why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

She brightened, just a little. And she talked. She talked about her time in university; she was an English major and Women's Studies minor. She played bassoon in the concert band, and lacrosse is the fall. She had met Von during her freshman year; he was the precocious sophomore editor of the university's literary journal and she his most enthusiastic contributor. He'd proposed two years later on a euphoric whim when Gabrielle scored the winning goal in the last game of her junior year. It had taken them two weeks to decide to take the request seriously. "I told him I'd rather have a new laptop in lieu of a diamond. He refused to accept that offer," she said, twisting the modest pear-shaped ring on her finger with a rueful smile.

Booth found he was amused in spite of himself; Gabrielle was charming and interesting, if not too young for him to _really _relate to. If he had wanted to relate to her.

After about twenty minutes of her storytelling, she stopped and took a breath. "Wow, I really just went for it, didn't I? I want to hear about you, Seeley. From the man himself." She smiled for real now, and it struck him again, the similarity. It made his heart squeeze just a little painfully.

What did he want to tell her? What did he want to share? "Well…" he said slowly. "I suppose you know I work for the FBI."

She nodded vigorously. "I read the article. About you and your partner. It's very impressive, what you do."

"Thanks." He paused. "I used to be in the Army. I…like hockey. Big Flyers fan. And…" He hesitated on this one, not sure if he wanted to share something so personal, but knowing it was a huge part of who he was. "I have a son. He's eight."

"Really?!" Gabrielle's eyes got wide. "That's amazing. I never thought I'd have nieces and nephews. What's his name?"

"Parker," he told her, still feeling uncomfortable.

"I'd like to meet him someday," she said, eyes sweet and sincere, and he didn't want to have to tell her that he still wasn't sure _he _wanted to be a part of her life, let alone Parker.

He told her a few more minor things, and was relieved that she didn't push for more. Eventually, she excused herself to the restroom. It would have been a good time to regroup, except he was now left with her fiancé, who seemed to be studying him.

Von had been mostly quiet through this whole get-together, really speaking up only when Gabrielle had asked him to clarify part of the story she was telling. Booth couldn't tell whether he was shy, or simply _was _just there to support and protect his fiancée, but now they were alone, he appeared more intense. Booth forced a small smile at him.

"It's great that you came here with her," he told him, to break the silence.

"This was important to her," Von responded quietly, taking a drink from his mug. "She's been talking about it for a long time."

Another moment of silence, and Booth squirmed a little bit.

"You know," the younger man finally said, adjusting his glasses, "I promised I'd stay out of this, as much as I could. But I have to tell you something. You'd be a fool not to have her in your life, when she wants you there."

Surprised by Von's bluntness after his relatively hands-off approach to the rest of this encounter, Booth was momentarily at a loss for words. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She's a remarkable person. A good person. And no matter what the circumstances, I have to say you're one lucky son of a gun to have her as a sister."

As uncomfortable as the confrontation made him, Booth didn't begrudge Von for saying what he did. "That's because you love her. The woman you love is always the most incredible, precious thing in the universe, and you'd think it no matter how much someone might try to convince you otherwise." He smiled ruefully despite his momentary distress.

"That may be true," Von agreed. "But I hope you'll consider it nonetheless. It's not her fault, you know."

"I know that." He _did _know it; had told Bones that very thing, just this morning. Despite his youth, Von seemed like a smart young man, and Booth figured he didn't have to tell him that sometimes knowing a fact wasn't enough to convince your heart out of a feeling.

Gabrielle came back a minute later, her ready smile in place. The smile still familiar even though his father had used it so rarely. The smile that Gabby herself had likely seen much more often, had _put _on her (_his) _father's face, because she was part of the family that had saved him. The family he had loved, and who loved him. The family that had been good enough.

"Well," she said brightly. "Should I get us some more coffees so we can chat some more?"

It was getting to be too much now…had been too much for awhile. "Look, Gabrielle…it was really nice to meet you, and I appreciate the effort you put into finding me." A lie. He wasn't appreciative. Not one little bit. "But I'm not really interested in…further family reunions. I wish you a lot of luck in your senior year, and both of you with the wedding, but…I think I should go."

Her smile faded. "You can't stay for a little longer?"

Dammit, she wasn't making this easy. "I don't think so." He forced what he hoped was a kind expression as he stood up. "I'm a busy guy, and…yeah. A lot going on. I hope you understand." He patted her hand awkwardly as he tried to back away at the same time. "Take care of yourself. And Von, take care of her." He didn't hazard a look in the eyes of the other man, knowing he'd see wrath there for what he was about to do.

He turned, trying to escape and forget about how her face crumbled right before he looked away, because surely it would haunt his dreams.

"Seeley."

He willed himself not to stop when he heard her voice, but felt helpless to it, letting go of the glass door he'd just started to open and slowly turning back to her. She'd followed him, was right there with her pleading dark eyes.

"Before you leave…this is the last thing I'm going to say about this, okay?...I don't know why he didn't come back to you after he got better. When you grow up in a family of recovered alcoholics, the Program is gospel, and _I _know and _he _knows he should have made amends with you and your brother and your mother. But he's so full of shame…he just _can't _get past it. He's gotten past so many other things…"

"Gabrielle," he interrupted, heart pounding, but she was on a roll now, red-faced and a little breathless.

"…But it doesn't mean he doesn't love you. I can hear it in the way he talks about you. He does, and God, I understand why it might be hard for you to believe, and even harder to forgive, but the man who hurt you isn't the man I know. I'm sorry, but it's not." She wasn't crying yet, but her eyes shone with frustration and he felt guilty and awful in a way that still couldn't cancel out his anger at this whole situation.

"You shouldn't be sorry about that."

"But if I understood better, you wouldn't want me out of your life," she whispered, and Von approached her, wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close.

"Gabs," Von said quietly into her ear, still audible to Booth, "this isn't something you can control. We have to walk away, okay?"

Her eyes wouldn't leave Booth's, torturing him with their desperation. "I know, I know," she said, but her face reflected no understanding of that knowledge.

He was feeling a similar desperation for her to understand _him. _"Gabrielle, this is nothing personal at all. You seem like a wonderful young woman, with a great life. And I'm doing fine too, so…why should we complicate things? We've lived different lives, we are different people…Neither of us should feel obligated to have a relationship just because we share genetic markers." Now he sounded like Bones, but he had no idea how else to get it across.

"We're family," the girl insisted stubbornly, and it twisted at his heart.

"You said yourself…the man who raised you wasn't the same one who raised me," he reminded gently, and his excuses rang hollow in his own ears.

"C'mon Sweetie, let's go." Von was pulling her gently, and she was gradually relenting.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry I can't be what you need," Booth said helplessly, and he hated himself that the last thing he noticed before her reluctance to leave turned to weak acceptance was that her eyes looked exactly like his son's. And exactly like his father's.

--

She didn't look particularly surprised to see him at her door, but that changed when he pushed himself inside without his typical affable smile and pleasant greeting.

"Why did you make me do that?"

"I'm pretty sure, barring our initial collaboration as partners, I've never been able to make you do anything even when I tried," she said uncertainly, shutting the door and approaching him gingerly. "Things with Gabrielle didn't go as well as you hoped," she predicted.

"I never thought it would go well," he fumed, pacing. "The only thing it accomplished was upsetting her, and making me feel even more like an ass for disappointing her, because now I know what a nice girl she is."

"Booth, what happened?" she asked, off-put by his agitation and knowing that simple disappointment on either end couldn't have caused it.

He spun mid-pace and exploded at her. "_Gabrielle _happened, Bones. With her damn smile and her fucking eyes and her ridiculous optimistic hope that we can erase the past just because we share blood."

Bones put a tentative hand on his bicep. "Booth…"

"But you know what? Now the shitty thing is not only can't I erase the past, I can't erase _her, _either. So _now _what am I supposed to do??"

"I'm so sorry." Her face looked pained. "I don't like it when you hurt."

Her expression of honest caring nearly knocked the wind out of him, almost as much as the previous events of the day, and part of him crumpled in the face of it. "She says he got better. My family couldn't do a damn thing to help him, but he gets away from us and suddenly he's goddamned father of the year"

"I'm sorry, Booth. I'm so sorry."

He felt a little better, the next ten minutes he spent standing in her arms, feeling her pulse against his cheek as he pressed it to her throat, finding comfort in the warmth of her embrace and the soothing stroke of her fingers on his back. But he knew that when he let her go, the world and his memories would still be there, and he could no longer deny that he had to deal with them.

--

**A/N: Happy holiday season to all of you. As always, I appreciate every response from every one of you.**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: My go-to gal for this story, nicolemack, is with family across the world, so my thanks for lookover help goes to lizook for this chap, and in general to The Posse for their support. Great bunch of girls, they are.**

--

They sat in their typical fashion—side-by-side, nearly touching but not quite, while their young therapist watched them earnestly from the chair across from their couch. Often, they used this as a time to bicker, enjoying both the conversation itself and the frustration that it caused Sweets, who wanted them to talk about more personal, meaningful issues.

But today they couldn't seem to find it in them to pretend there wasn't something more important to deal with. They fidgeted and looked everywhere but at Sweets and each other, but they couldn't revert to casual banter.

"This business with Agent Booth's sister…it's really thrown you, hasn't it?" the younger man said, by way of starting the conversation.

"I'm dealing with it," Booth replied shortly

Bones glanced over at him, surprised. "You are?"

He gave her a look. "That's not nice."

Sweets was nodding. "The two of you are both feeling the strain of this. Why don't we talk about that?"

He knew he had to talk about this sooner or later, and the elaborate string of memories it brought to light—Gabrielle, his father, his mother, Jared, the alcohol, the beatings, his grandfather, his abandonment—but it was all a confusing tangle in his head right now and the thought of even starting to climb that mountain made him feel incredibly tired. "I'm not sure this is the time to deal with that, Sweets. I have some things I want to sort out first before I make it a therapy issue." He didn't miss Bones' frustrated look in response to his words, and neither did the doctor.

"Dr. Brennan, you're struggling with Booth's inability to discuss this openly. Why don't we talk about some of _your _feelings, as Agent Booth's partner and friend?"

_Playing dirty, _Booth thought to himself in resentment of the therapist. _You know the best way to get to me is through Bones._

She was now fiddling with the tassels of the couch's pillow. "I don't want to upset him," she said finally, looking up from the twisted cord.

Bones was worried about his comfort level in therapy? "Since when?" Booth asked incredulously.

Brennan ignored him, talking straight to Sweets. "It's been a very stressful past few days for Booth. I certainly don't want to make this about me."

"Your attempt to shield him is kind, Dr. Brennan…but isn't being shielded from the truth what caused part of this problem in the first place? Oftentimes we have to face the truth—no matter how unpleasant—in order to satisfactorily resolve the problem."

Booth gave Sweets a wary look, knowing he was right, but also not particularly looking forward to what was likely to come next.

But Bones was nodding, Sweets encouraging, so he felt there was little choice in this matter.

"I understand Booth's feelings of ambivalence towards his father, and towards Gabrielle for her connection to him. I really, _really _do," she stressed, looking directly into his eyes as if driving the point home that _both _of them certainly were familiar with such feelings. "When my brother and father came back into my life, I was very hesitant to accept them. But I did…with Booth's help. He explained to me about the importance of family, and I believed him because he's the 'heart guy'." She made quotes in the air. "I trusted him, and am now glad that I did; Russ and Dad mean so much to me, and I'm so glad I let go of my anger towards them."

He knew what was coming, and tried to brace himself from it.

Her eyes drifted back to Sweets. "But I can't help but feel now that Booth's advice on the matter was somewhat hypocritical," she mumbled.

Bracing himself hadn't worked. A million emotions smacked him in the face at once; anger at the accusation, guilt at knowing it was at least a little true, but mostly the firm hold of denial and the all-encompassing urge to deflect. He butted in. "I only advocated that because I could tell you _wanted _them back in your life, Bones. And the reason you've been able to get close to Max again is by pushing down your anger, not letting it go."

It came out without consideration, but it had exactly the desired effect; she was shocked out of her line of thought.

"I'm not angry with my father anymore," she said incredulously, while Sweets watched them in fascination.

"You're not? Not even a little?" he challenged, hating himself for doing this but _needing _to get the focus off of himself.

"No. I've come to terms with what happened when I was a kid."

"If your father hadn't abandoned you for a life of crime, you wouldn't have gone into the foster care system. You would have the life of a normal teenager. You wouldn't have been locked in the trunk of a car for breaking a fucking dish. You'd have to be made of stone not to be angry about that." He regretted the words the instant they were out in the air, but it was too late now. Color had already poured into her face, her eyes already narrowed.

"Shut up, Booth." Her voice was full of hurt and warning…he'd pushed too far and he knew it. "_You _were the one who told me to forgive him. _You _were the one who encouraged my relationship with him. And now that we have one, you _want _me to be angry with him? That's unfair."

Sweets finally intervened, but it was unnecessary at this point. "Okay guys, I think we should take a few seconds to diffuse and…"

The extent of his own repressed anger had never been so apparent to him as it was in this moment. Was he so damaged that he'd take out all his hurt and shame on the woman he loved? Would he accept a quest of self-destruction before he admitted his weakness to her? "No, she's right, Sweets. I'm sorry, Bones. I shouldn't have brought that up," he said quietly.

But he'd fucked up this time, _really _fucked up, and she wasn't finished. "You know what I think? I think you want me to be mad at him because _you're _jealous. Because no matter how much Max messed up, he was _still _a better father than your Dad was."

Their eyes bored into each other, and even though they'd always bickered and argued, always pushed each other, it never felt this nasty or awful.

Their therapist tried again. "These are very difficult feelings that both of you have about your families. It's okay to express them, but we need to stick to one issue at a time."

By his last words, Brennan had already stood and was heading for the door. "Don't bother," she said coldly, now refusing to look at either of them. "I don't think I'm interested in anything else Booth has to say about families. Since it was apparently all make-believe to begin with."

When the door slammed shut behind her, Booth found himself as left behind as he'd ever felt in his life.

--

When he answered the doorbell later, she was looking incredibly hesitant, and he couldn't exactly blame her. "Come in," he urged.

Glancing around, she walked into his place slowly, almost as if she were expecting an ambush. He held up a finger as he ran back in the kitchen for a moment. "Be right back…gotta stir the pasta. I hope spaghetti is okay."

"It's fine, but you don't have to cook for me."

"No, I wanted to." He called it while he pulled of the lid that sat tilted on the pot, hissing at the steam that came off and burned his hand. Snatching a dishtowel, he wrapped it around one hand as he checked the status of everything on the stovetop. Finally satisfied that everything was as it should be, he tossed the towel on his shoulder and went back out to his visitor. "I don't cook much," he apologized. "But this is a staple when Parker comes to visit."

"It's not a big deal." She hadn't sat down, and was looking anything but comfortable.

Sighing, he gestured to the couch. "I felt horrible about how we left before."

She took the invitation, sitting down gingerly. "Me too."

"Does Von hate me?" He sat on the armchair across from her.

"Just a little. He didn't really want me to come today."

"Do _you _hate me?"

Her big brown eyes blinked. "You know what's strange, is that in all this time I'd never considered how I'd feel about _you. _I just thought we'd meet and it would feel right and…you'd be my brother." She shrugged and looked a little embarrassed. "I guess as _much _as I thought about it—I never quite thought it through."

"You still had it better thought through than I did." He rubbed his face, but didn't look away from her this time…he planned to be honest about his cluelessness, and at least _that _was _some _course of action. "Gabby, I don't know what to do about this. In all honesty, I'd prefer to put it all behind me, but…I seem to be having difficulty doing that." He thought about his disastrous therapy session with Bones last evening. If it had proved anything, it was that he was utterly incapable of just putting Gabrielle—and everything she represented—behind him.

"Which is why I'm sitting in your place about to eat spaghetti," she finished, and he gave a rueful shrug. "Seeley, you know that I want a relationship with you. But the thing I realized the other day was that I'm only willing to try as hard as you are. We're going back to Virginia tomorrow, and…jeez, this whole trip has taken a lot out of me." She _did _look exhausted, he noticed, her face a little more drawn, dark circles under her eyes that stood in stark contrast to her otherwise youthful appearance. "If this isn't going to work, if you are just _never _going to be able to accept me…I hope you'll tell me that now, so I can start admitting that as a fact and move on with my life."

He hated what his indecision was doing to her, but his hating it didn't give him the answer about what to do with her. "I'm…" he took a deep breath… "not going to tell you that."

Her eyebrow rose.

"Could we…maybe…just get to know each other a little bit? No expectations, no promises. Not making this about anyone else except us."

She regarded him silently for so long that it became uncomfortable, and he almost told her to forget about it, they'd just have their dinner and put this whole disaster behind them—but then she spoke.

"Jimmy Eat World."

He snorted. "Are you kidding me? Do I _look _emo? AC/DC."

"They're such a cliché. Nickelback."

"That's fake rock, sweetheart. The Doors."

"Way too far before my time." She paused, considering. "Tom Petty?"

A smile cracked on his face. "Yeah. I like Tom Petty."

She seemed to wait until she was sure he wasn't teasing her; then, she grinned uncertainly. "Alright then. That's somewhere to start."

The timer on the oven chose that moment to go off, and he stood. "Yeah. Gotta start somewhere."

Rising to join him, she followed. "You want help?"

Sighing, he briefly squeezed her shoulder as he guided her back to the kitchen. "Gabs, I can use all the help I can get right now."

Before they sat down to dinner, he hit the power button of his stereo, and the loud riffs of _Purple Haze _filled the room. She wrinkled her nose at him. Running his fingers down the column of his extensive CD collection rack, he made a different choice, sliding the disc in and waiting for the first chords to play, and for her approving smile.

Into the great wide open, indeed.

--

"Do we have a case?"

Bones' voice was cool and no-nonsense; it's the one she used most of the time in her lab, while she had her hair pulled back and her blue coat on. But he liked to imagine that her tone usually softened for him.

But not this time. She wouldn't even look directly at him.

"Now you know if we had a case, I'd call you first, Bones," he told her. "I'm here to take you to lunch."

She was staring at shattered pieces of a skull on the backlit table. "I'll be eating here today."

"Come on. Don't be this way." He tried to keep the frustration out of his voice. He'd been doing better at being mature for the past few days, but it was no secret that this woman could push his buttons like no other. "I have some things I need to talk to you about. About Gabby."

He'd thought that would pique her interest, and for a brief moment it seemed to work; her eyebrows rose in surprise. But they fell just as quickly. "I think if we learned anything the other day, it was that neither of us are any help when it comes to family matters, Booth. If you want advice on those issues, you should talk to Sweets. Or maybe Cam, because she has experience with these things…"

"Bones, I don't want to talk about it with those people. I want to talk about it with you." He reached out and touched her arm, the crisp material of the coat feeling stiff against his fingers. She didn't move, didn't respond, and he fought the edge of desperation that threatened to creep into his voice. "The things that I'm feeling right now, they're hard…I haven't been dealing with them very well. And I need my friend to understand that, and not judge me too harshly."

Her jaw twitched, evidence of his words having effect…but she didn't bend, speaking softly to the bones in front of her rather than him. "I feel like you misled me, Booth."

"That was never my intention."

"It still feels awful." She finally hazarded a look at him, and he saw the caution there. And it _did _feel awful because while Bones' trust in him was never blind, he had always before strove to give her every reason for it—and it paid off. Years of gentle chipping at her barriers of logic had made him the one she came to when she had feelings she didn't understand.

He _still _believed he counseled her correctly, in the matter of her father and brother.

But perhaps he shouldn't have been so heavy-handed with the "family trumps _everything" _platitudes when he himself had notable exceptions to that rule.

"I'm sorry," he told her. "I'm more messed up by this than I would have expected myself to be. Forgive me. Have lunch with me." He squeezed he arm he still held, and tried to convey with his eyes what it wasn't quite okay to say out-loud: _Someday, Bones, I'll make this up to you…I'm going to take you in my arms and show you, just who I think of as my real family. And then you'll see that the things I said weren't a lie._

"Booth…" she hedged, but he imagined he could feel just a little of the tension draining out of her…he smiled hopefully and begged God for just a moment to for once let his smile have the same effect on _her _as it seemed to on many other women.

Before she gave him the satisfaction of a response, his phone rang from deep in his pocket. He muttered his discontent at the unwanted interrupted. "Hold on. I'm not leaving without you," he warned, fishing for the buzzing electronic and frowning at the unfamiliar number. He didn't like to interrupt his very important make-up attempt with Bones for a stranger. "Hello?"

"Seeley?" It was a man's voice, not really familiar, but not completely unknown either.

"Yes?"

"This is Evonis Mitchell…Gabrielle's fiancé?

Von? Why was Von calling him? He and Gabrielle should have gotten on their plane an hour ago. "What's going on?"

"I'm sorry to bother you," he said, although his terse voice indicated little apology. "But we're down at the police station, and Gabby asked me to call you."

"What?! What are you doing there? Is Gabrielle okay?"

"No. I mean, yes, she's physically fine. But she got mugged this morning walking around National Mall, and she's pretty shaken up. Took her purse and her ring."

"Mugged??" His eyes flew open, and Bones looked at him concernedly. "Jesus."

"Yeah, I know that it's not really an FBI matter, but…"

"I'll be right there. Don't go anywhere." He flipped his phone shut and turned to Bones. "I've gotta go to Metro. Gabs ran into some trouble this morning."

She nodded. "I'll come with you."

He had to give her credit; she was _always _there when it really mattered. She shuttled him past all the curious eyes, the fingers skimming his back somehow as much a comfort as a hug from anybody else.

--

His badge quickened the process of making his way through D.C. Metro and finding Gabrielle, who was slumped on a bench outside the interview room while Von paced nearby. She looked up as he entered, her face puffy from crying, and hell if it didn't almost make his heart break.

"Hi Seeley," she whispered.

"Hey Gabs," he said gently, looking down at her. "Now what is _this _all about?"

"I…missed my flight," she sniffed, and the words were accompanied by another tear squeezed down her pretty round cheek.

"Don't worry about that, okay? We'll get you home soon." Sitting beside her, he took her hand in his then nodded toward his partner. "This is Dr. Brennan. She came for moral support."

"Oh yeah, we talked on the phone." Gabrielle forced a smile through her tears. "You didn't have to do that."

"Moral support for _me," _he stressed, while Bones shook Von's hand.

Gabby's curls fell in her face as she looked downwards. "I got up early…couldn't go back to sleep, so I thought I'd take a walk in the Mall. There was hardly anybody around, and I was just about to leave to maybe check out the Capitol when this guy came out of nowhere. He had a gun; I gave him my bag but he wanted my ring too…" She twisted her bare finger. "I shouldn't have gone alone. God, so _stupid…"_

"Don't you dare blame yourself." He found himself nearly impossibly angry—God knew he'd seen a hundred more awful crimes, but somehow this one, perpetrated against this girl (_sister) _who was no threat to anyone, who had come to this place for _him…_it pissed him off beyond belief. "You gave the cops a description—told them everything you remember? Cancelled all your credit cards? You're sure there's nothing else?"

She nodded.

"I'm going to talk to them…make this one priority, okay?"

She blinked with watery eyes. "It shouldn't be anymore more priority than anyone else. But I'd really like my ring back."

Oh fuck. "I know. We're gonna figure it out. Give me a minute, okay?" He glanced at Bones, sending her a tacit message…_take care of her for me…_and waiting until she nodded in response before heading into the interview room to talk to the cop who'd taken Gabrielle's report. He knew several of the men and women who worked Metro, and had good relationships with a few of them; he used that to his advantage now. Although he hated the idea of nepotism in crime-fighting, he also knew Metro had a _lot _on its plate and something like this could easily get pushed to the wayside; he didn't want that to happen in this case. In fact, remembering Gabby's traumatized musing of her bare ring finger made him feel vaguely nauseous, and he put extra emphasis on his request for the recovery of that particular item.

When he came back out, he found Bones and Gabrielle sitting together and talking quietly. Gabby's tears had dried, and he picked up on the last few words of the conversation…_and then I twisted as to cause maximum damage to several of the bones in the carpus…_and he had to smirk. Bones was giving her advice on self-defense? "Stop it," he scolded. "When someone points a gun at you, you don't take chances unless you're a cop."

"…Or another person with specialized training. Which I am," she responded.

"But Gabrielle isn't."

"Maybe I should be," Gabby piped up, with more energy than he'd heard since he met her here.

"Or maybe we should just have you stay put so you can stay safe," he replied sternly. He put a hand on the younger woman's shoulder, urging her up. "Now. Let's take you back to…where are you going?"

Her and Von looked at each other. "Oh," she responded. "Last night was the last we paid for in the hotel. I guess we'll stay…honey, can we stay in a different one tonight? I know that it was just a fluke, but…I don't really want to be in that area again." She looked uncomfortable.

"Of course," Von soothed, approaching her and squeezing her hand. "We'll find somewhere else. And tomorrow…well, I guess we'll just get a note from the cops that your ID was stolen, and see what the airline can do for us." He sighed. "We'll figure it out."

"You don't need a hotel. You can stay with me."

That came from Bones. The three of them turned to look at her with their mouths open.

"Dr. Brennan, we can't just…"

"Certainly you can."

Booth sidled in closer and talked lowly in her ear. "Bones, you don't have to do that. If they stay with anybody it should be me…"

She spoke at normal volume. "Don't be ridiculous. Your place isn't big enough to comfortably accommodate two overnight guests. Mine is. And Gabrielle and Von are both students, so I very much doubt they can afford another stay in a hotel, plus a new plane ticket." She was reaching in her bag for her phone. "I'm going to tell Cam I'll be back a little late today while I get them settled. Tomorrow, I'll drive them back to Virginia."

They were all staring at her. Von tried again. "This is very kind of you Dr. Brennan, but you shouldn't have to…"

She held up a brusque hand as she put the phone to her ear, letting it ring. "Please don't argue. You've both had a difficult day, and this will make things easier for everybody." Seeing the questions in Booth's eyes before Cam picked up on the other end, she responded. "It's okay. I promise." And despite her matter-of-factness, all he could see was the caring that laid under this act she was about to carry out.

God, but she made his heart hurt sometimes.

"Hey, Cam…" she turned as her boss answered, making the conversation a little more private.

As Booth turned his face from her and back to her two new charges, he suddenly, surprisingly found himself with his arms full of Gabrielle. "Whoa."

"Thanks for coming, Seeley," she whispered. The top of her head barely reached his shoulder, and he turned her cheek into his chest as she squeezed him tightly. "I know you didn't have to, and probably didn't want to, but…I'm glad you did."

Over her head, he saw Von, watching them through his glasses just a little distrustfully. Gabrielle had said he only hated Booth a little.

"I'm sorry this happened to you, Gabs," he told her, putting his arms around her in return and resting his chin atop her dark curls for just a moment before he took her by the shoulders and gently disentangled her from himself.

"I'm sorry too. But I'm happy you care." She regarded him earnestly for a second before Bones came back.

"Okay, we're set. You two have your things?"

"They dropped them off over in the cop's office who interviewed me. I'll go get them." Gabrielle took a brief leave, and Von followed her.

They only had a moment to be alone, and Bones was regarding him coolly.

He spoke first. "You know I'm not going to let you go alone tomorrow."

"I won't be alone. Gabrielle and Evonis will be with me."

"You know what I mean." He was vacillating being in awe of her kindness, and resentment of her continued urging to face his demons.

"I'd never make you," she replied simply.

"You don't have to." And that was the amazing part, wasn't it? The power she had over him without even trying to exert it. How he could one day be angry with her, and the next be agreeing to…no, _insisting _on…accompanying her to his father's new home state.

Yet…that is exactly what he had just done.

--

**A/N: I always appreciate your thoughts!**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Haaai welcome back! To me! I've been absent from the world of the internetz for far too long. Hope your holidays were amazing if you celebrated them. I spent mine struggling pretty hardcore with a case of sinusitis. Ew. But the important part is making it through to the other side, yes? And I'm VERY good at that.**

**Always a million thank-yous to this story's fabulous beta, nicolemack. She beta'd this from the other side of the world and deserves mad props for her dedication.**

**--**

He drove to her place in the morning; not to pick them up, but to go along with them. Brennan had insisted on driving, and her insistence left no room for even light bickering about the topic. He'd tried anyway…"I'm related to them, I should drive them home"…but she brushed that off with a simple "No."

When he asked why, she had a good reason. "Because I still haven't quite forgiven you yet."

It annoyed him a little, but it shut him up. He wanted her forgiveness. Needed it, really. And he'd sit in the passenger seat to get it.

She answered the front door looking surprisingly, deliciously casual in black yoga pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt, hair clipped back in a barrette. He saw no sign of Gabrielle and Von. "Where are the kids?"

Shrugging, she turned from him, tossing the overnight bag she held onto the floor beside the door. "Probably cleaning up my guest room and getting their things ready."

"Room, singular? You let them sleep in the same room?" he muttered, low enough to conceal his voice from the bustling couple down the hall.

"Of course I did." She blinked at him. "Why would have I not? You don't think they were sleeping together at the hotel? Or at home?"

"I don't know, and I don't want to know!"

A smile ghosted across her face. "Booth, they're adults, and they're _engaged. _Surely that's enough to assuage your Catholic sensibilities."

It should have been, but it wasn't. Still, he had no leg to stand on in an argument, so he did his best to push it out of his mind. "Can I take this stuff out to the car?"

She nodded, and he grabbed the bags, happy to have a task. He started lugging the heavier stuff out and tossing it in the trunk of Bones' BMW. When he came back, Gabrielle and Von had finally emerged from the back room. Gabby gave him a smile, while he got the cool look from Von that he was coming to expect. He didn't blame the kid; as far as Von was concerned, Booth had hurt Gabrielle, and the circumstances of that didn't matter. It would take a lot more than a simple ride home to convince Von of Booth's sincerity of feeling towards his fiancée.

"Hey there, guys. Did you have a good night?"

"Yeah," Gabby said with some enthusiasm. "Dr. Brennan has _amazing _sheets."

"That's good. But I bet you're looking forward to your own bed."

"That's true," she admitted, pulling her wheeled suitcase from its spot by the hallway. "It'll be nice to be home. Where, you know, no one mugs me."

He gave her a sympathetic look. "Are you ready?" he asked, holding out his hand to shuttle her towards the door.

"I was ready yesterday," she sighed, following his lead and being joined by her fiancé. Bones brought up the rear, fussing with her keys. Gabby smiled at him again briefly. "Thanks again, Seeley. It means a lot to me, what you're doing."

It was surprising, how happy her smile made him. He wasn't used to not knowing how he felt; not anymore, since he woke up from his coma and did some serious soul-searching. But he wasn't entirely sure what to make of the emotions inside of him that Gabby stirred up. Thinking of her as his sister felt far too personal; he knew so little of her, and despite her familiar smile and the fact that her eyes were like looking in a mirror, part of him still felt vaguely suspicious of how connected they _really _could be, sharing the genes of one estranged parent. Even with the steps they'd taken in the past few days, much of her was still a mystery to him; and the part of the mystery that included his father, he wasn't terribly anxious to figure out.

Yet he'd enjoyed his time with her, once he'd allowed himself to relax a bit; she was sweet and smart and personable, and she hadn't pushed him at _all. _It was shocking to him, the near-immediate protective instinct that had overcome him when he thought she was in danger—and he knew it was more than the simple desire to protect the innocent that was an always-present part of himself. He'd found himself wanting to shield her from hurt and fear with a ferocity that was typically reserved only for Parker and Bones. Part of him felt half-guilty that she'd been exposed to hurt and fear at _all _during her time in D.C. It was a disorienting way of reacting to a near-stranger.

Ten minutes after they got on the road, Bones looking pleased with herself in the driver's seat while he sat resignedly next to her, he checked his hair in the visor mirror and spotted Gabrielle and Von drooping together in the backseat, already dozing. He chuckled at the sight.

"Typical college students," he told Bones, who looked at him impassively.

"Even in college I was quite capable of maintaining a rigorous schedule on six hours of sleep a night."

"You weren't a typical college student."

"I was an intelligent, productive, efficient one."

"Awh, c'mon Bones. Didn't you ever let go? Stay up late partying then sleep in until two in the afternoon? Eat cornflakes for lunch, have beer for dinner and then do it all over again the next day?"

She wrinkled her nose distastefully as she merged onto the highway. "That does _not _sound fun at all."

"You never had to do the walk of shame?" he teased her, and she frowned even harder.

"What would I be ashamed of? Being a good student?"

"No, that's what we called it when you had to walk back to your dorm in the morning in the same clothes the night after you…ya know…"

"Had sexual intercourse?"

"Yeah, that."

"I didn't have sexual intercourse until after I graduated from college."

"As well you shouldn't have."

"But you just said I should have had sexual intercourse in college after going to a party and eating cornflakes."

"I was kidding, Bones. It was good you waited."

"Did you ever have a walk of shame?"

"Well…usually that was just a term for the girls' walks home."

She scowled. "That's incredibly sexist."

"What's incredibly sexist?" came a sleepy voice from the back seat.

"Your brother having sexual intercourse with women in college and not having a "walk of shame" afterwards."

"Bones!" he exclaimed with horror, while Gabby nodded seriously in the back and said "That _is _sexist. And ew."

He should have known better than to banter as usual with guests in the car. "Okay. You," he pointed back at Gabrielle, "go back to sleep. You," he pointed at Bones, "concentrate on driving."

"I'm driving fine," she said breezily. "I can easily drive and converse at the same time."

"Well don't," he snapped, and couldn't tell if he were imagining the look of amusement in her eyes.

Taking pity on him, or merely tiring of the game, they all settled into a companionable silence, enjoying the improvement of the view as they left city territory. Gabrielle didn't return to sleep, and eventually when they got closer to their destination, she and Von started pointing out landmarks along the way. Despite himself, Booth almost found himself enjoying the trip.

The plan was to drop Von off at the apartment he and Gabby shared. Then came the more tricky issue; Gabrielle's car was at her parents' place, and Von didn't have his own. They hadn't talked about how they were getting her to Ground Zero yet, but he needed to figure out just how prepared he was to be this close to his estranged father.

At the apartment, he and Bones helped Von take his luggage to the door; Gabby said she'd take her own suitcase to her parents because there were gifts in there. She kissed her fiancé and promised to be home later; Von shook Booth's hand and, despite his obvious reticence to trust him, thanked him for all his help.

Then they were back in the car, Gabby talking on her cell in the backseat to a friend and describing her mugging with a dramatic flair that made Booth smile.

Bones spoke softly. "I'm going to drop you off at the hotel and take Gabrielle home.

There it was. He hated making this her burden.

"I'll take her," he insisted weakly. "It's not like it'll be a family reunion. I'll just drop her off."

Her strong blue gaze was unwavering. "Booth, I hope you don't take this as me judging any sort of weakness on your part. But I don't think you're ready for that."

And she was right; he could argue all day with her, but it didn't change the fact that she was spot-on. It was a stretch for him to be here, in this town, where his father had recovered and raised a new family without him. Driving up to his doorstep felt to be a near-insurmountable mission. The option of _her _being the one driving to that doorstop barely felt better.

"Bones," he whispered, willing her to see his struggle even though he knew she didn't have the answer to it.

"It's okay," she said quietly, under Gabby's conversation. "I'll just drop her off, and drive away. It won't have anything to do with him, okay?"

In the moment, he was supremely grateful for her. For all their differences, and for all her still-present anger with him, she accurately assessed his anxieties, his hesitations, and responded to them in just the right way. He still HATED this, but…God he loved her. At times like this, it was all he could do not to say it, over and over again.

She smiled reassuringly, reaching over the console and giving his fingers a squeeze. "Just hang out in the hotel for awhile. Decide what we're going to do for dinner. I'll be right back."

In the hotel lobby, he said goodbye to Gabby. She hugged him; it was a much less emotional gesture than her one from yesterday, yet somehow felt more significant.

"Will you keep in touch?" she asked, her (_Parker's, his father's) _eyes looking vulnerable.

"Yes," he said solemnly. "I'll call you." He pinched her chin between two fingers and looked at her seriously. "No more getting into trouble."

She beamed. "Let me know when you find my ring, okay?"

"I will," he promised.

And he meant it.

--

It was so quiet here. He was accustomed to being alone in his apartment, but he had plenty of distractions there that were not present in this sparse hotel room. There was nothing on TV he wanted to watch at this time of the day, and his reading choices included an _Explore Richmond!_ brochure and the copy of the Gideon Bible in the nightstand drawer. The former he was done with in five minutes, and he wasn't exactly in the mood right now for the latter.

Unfortunately, he had a more important task that he'd probably already neglected for too long.

It was with great reluctance that he pulled out his phone, plugging it in to charge while sitting down under the harsh light of the desk. The pretense of waiting for the battery to be full helped waste some time, as did going to the bathroom and unpacking his overnight bag. When he couldn't avoid it any longer, he sunk to the chair and dialed his brother.

"Hey Seels. What's up? It's been forever."

He talked to his brother sporadically, but it had indeed been a much longer stretch of time than typical. "Yeah, I know. There's been sort of a lot going on." Scratching the back of his head, he sighed. He'd have to jump into this before Jared started up about his last night at the bar, or his last date. "Listen, I've got something kind of important to talk to you about."

"Yeah?" He sounded interested. "You getting married or something?"

"I wish that was it." Fumbling for words, he chose to simply barrel ahead. "Jared, our dad is living in Virgina. He sobered up, got married again, and had a kid."

Jared laughed, a humorless sound. "Yeah, that sounds about right." None of the shock that Booth had initially felt was present in his brother's voice.

"You aren't surprised?"

"You kidding? That's the ultimate cliché. Good for him. Hope he's happy."

Jared's blasé attitude was astounding to him. "I guess." He shook his head. "Jared, we have a sister."

"I heard you. How did you find out about this?"

"She found me."

"_Seriously?" _His brother's voice was incredulous. "Seeley, tell me you're not taking this chick in like a stray kitten. Or God, you're not planning on seeing _Dad _again…"

"No, of course not," he replied defensively, feeling a familiar irritation at his brother rising inside of him.

"Good. Who cares if our dirtbag father decided to have kids again? And are you sure this girl is even who she says she is?"

"Yeah, I've seen pictures. If you saw her, you'd know."

"I'm not going to see her. Neither should you. Seeley, you don't need this. You don't owe her anything."

He was developing an all-too-common headache as the conversation continued. "Jared, I know I don't. But this girl…_woman…_she's special, okay? I just can't brush her aside."

"That's your problem. You get it in your head that things and people are _special, _when they're just what they are. And what's-her-face…"

"Gabrielle," Booth interrupted.

"_Whoever, _is just some poor unfortunate kid who got a reformed jerk as a Dad. That's it." Jared sighed hard. "What does Tempe think about this? You can usually count on her to be sentiment-free."

Booth hesitated. "We've…had some disagreements about it. But I think when it comes down to it, she understands this better than anybody else."

"She's not special either, Seeley."

He immediately bristled. "Watch it, Jared."

His brother sighed. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. What I meant is, _she _doesn't understand any better than _me. _I was there, remember? I actually _knew _the son-of-a-bitch. And I'm telling you, he's not worth our time, then or now. And neither are any of the other poor kids he's spawned."

Booth knew this is how this call would go, but was disappointed that Jared hadn't surprised him. He found himself relieved a thousand times over when his call-waiting button beeped. "I gotta go bro, I have another call. I just thought you should know this."

"Thanks," came the sarcastic reply, and he silently thanked God that Jared was two states away so he didn't have to restrain himself from hitting him.

He saw immediately that it was Gabrielle's number when he looked at the display to switch his call. "Yo, Gabs."

"Oh my God, Seeley." She sounded frazzled, or agitated, or disturbed, or _something _that didn't sound good, and he immediately sat up straighter. _Oh God. What now??_

"What,what??" he asked, half-panicked.

"Your crazy partner punched my father!!"

--

He heard her come back; they had adjoining rooms, and the slam of the door and the following sounds of things being tossed about did not sound particularly promising. He knocked at the door that separated them gingerly.

She took so long to open the door that he had decided to give up and give her some time, but just as he turned away it was yanked open. "Yes?" she asked brusquely.

"I…" He paused. Her eyes seemed wider, pupils dilated, and she looked a bit more crazed than he was used to seeing her. "Bones, Gabby said that…"

"Yes. And I don't want to talk about it right now." She sounded prim, but her face looked dangerous.

He felt frustrated. "You said you wouldn't even get out of the car."

"I just said…"

"Yeah, I got it," he exhaled. "You don't want to talk about it. Okay, okay. Take the time you need."

She shut the door.

The next hours felt endless. He watched pointless TV programs, read the menus in the phone book, played the Solitaire game he hadn't even known was on his phone. Dinnertime came and went; he gave up hoping that she'd knock or call, offering to go eat with him, so he ordered room service. Once he finished eating, he did a few sets of push-ups and sit-ups, then took a shower. Pulling on his pajama pants, he gave up on this whole crazy day by flopping down on the bed with an exasperated groan. Why did they even get hotel rooms? They should have just come here, dropped off the kids, and drove straight home. Then he'd be in his own bed right now instead of in this impersonal place, wondering just what the fuck happened.

He'd stopped hoping for her appearance tonight, so when the knock softly came he nearly jumped out of his skin. Sitting straight up on the bed, he pulled himself together. "Come in," he called.

She did so almost cautiously, near-slinking. She was still wearing that yoga-pants-and-t-shirt combination from earlier, but her hair was down and her eyes red-rimmed as if she'd been crying. Those eyes widened for a microsecond when she actually raised her head to look at him—maybe he should have pulled a shirt on or covered himself a little better—but she quickly recovered.

"You were out of line at therapy the other day," she said.

That's what she finally came in here to talk to him about? He reined in all the patience he could muster. "Yes. I know. I apologized. I still do."

She pursed her lips, walking slowly to the armchair beside the bed and easing down into it while he watched her carefully. A large exhale left her lips.

"It was out of line. But…your accusations were not entirely false."

Well. _That _he hadn't expected, and he wasn't sure how to respond to it. He goggled at her for a few minutes while she seemed to struggle for words to explain.

"I only got out to help Gabrielle with her bag. It was so big, and she's so small…and when I shut the trunk, I saw him coming. There was no mistaking who he was, and he was smiling. Smiling like nothing had ever happened, and holding his hand out like I'd want to shake it. And God, I got so mad, Booth. It came out of nowhere." Her brow furrowed with trouble. "I didn't even think about it, and…"

"…And you've got a strong right hook, Bones," he finished, finally settling back against the headboard of the bed, his jaw tingling at the memory of her fist connecting with it at his "funeral."

"I could have made it stronger," she mumbled.

Studying her, he recognized this was a more vulnerable Bones…admitting feelings she had no control of—an _action _she had no control over…and he was glad she was confiding it to him despite their breach of trust several days ago.

"I was angry for you, of course," she admitted. "I hate what you had to go through, Booth, it was wrong and children should _never _have to endure fear and pain like you and your brother did. But I've been thinking all day about this and I realized that my response was tied into my own hurt, too." She let out a shaky breath and looked at him with honest eyes while she gave a small shrug. "You're right. I _am _still mad at my Dad. He's apologized, given me several explanations, and I've accepted them easily, except…I haven't. Not really. "

It hadn't occurred to him, as he deflected in their therapy session to turn all the attention on Bones, that he'd actually hit the mark. The thought that he'd done so in anger, without care, made him wish that it was _he _who Bones had punched. "Nobody would ever blame you for feeling that way," he told her, wishing it wouldn't be so terribly inappropriate to urge her onto the bed so he could hold her.

"Sometimes I wish I could just yell at him, you know? Completely irrational, uncensored screaming. Sometimes I want to hurt his feelings. Can you blame me for that?"

"Awh, Bones," he sighed. "Of course not." Yet he also couldn't blame her for being uncomfortable with those feelings. It wasn't in _either _of them to enjoy thinking so cruelly.

"I never really thought of us as being much alike, you and me," she said thoughtfully, curling her legs up and hugging them in the chair. "Aside from the work we do, we're mostly different. But I guess…this is a big thing to have in common, isn't it?"

She was right; and he hadn't recognized it until now. Who'd have thought the day would come when she'd figure these things out before him? "You know what, Bones? I'm angry for both of us. Parents can't be perfect. But…you don't get many people in your life who are there for you one hundred percent. Your parents are supposed to be the first two that _are, _to show you that it's possible. To make you feel secure. And ours failed in doing that, and it's a damn shame. It's not fair."

Her blue eyes shone even in the dim light of the small bedside lamp. "I never expected life to be fair."

"Whether or not you expect it doesn't make it suck any less when it isn't."

Surprising him, she nodded her agreement, not saying a word. They sat in silence for a few long moments, feeling out their understanding, not quite content in it, but still at least a little comforted by its presence. He turned his eyes from her for a bit, doing his own processing of today's new information, and was slightly startled when he glanced back to find her gaze on him, as intense as ever. Her eyes were glazed, softer than when she first came in here, and they were trailing a slow path up his body. When they reached his own, she looked just a little taken aback and guilty, as if she hadn't been expecting to be caught looking.

He smiled at her, gratified by the moment. There were times he worried that this patient path he'd taken had led them to a place where they were close, loving friends, but nothing more; that their friendship was destined to stay this incredibly important, but non-evolving force in their lives. But then sometimes, like now, he saw the evidence of _more: _this desire and longing. Those times, he knew that the sexuality that had _always_ charged their relationship had not disappeared. It lay smoldering under the surface, just waiting…just like _he _was waiting.

"I should go," she said, standing slowly. "I'd like to leave early tomorrow so I can get some work done at the lab."

"That's fine." He sat up again, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his thighs. "I'll set my alarm for six."

She nodded, retreating towards the door to her own room. "Goodnight, Booth."

"Goodnight, Bones," he responded in kind, confused when she paused there for a second.

After her hesitation, she looked back at him, tentativeness written all over her face. "I know that you are one hundred percent there for me," she said softly.

His heart seized a little. "Yeah. I am," he promised. "I will be."

A barely-there smile touched her lips, before she turned again, moving through the door and leaving him alone.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Happy Bonesday all! Here is a present to celebrate.**

**Lots of stuff going on right now; sadly very little of it fic-related…but will try to bring you new installments of this little family drama on a semi-regular basis.**

**Am running out of ways to say THANK YOU to my number 1 gal for this story nicolemack, but she'll just have to deal w/my repetition. Thanks, babes. Loves.**

**--**

He ended up waiting for Bones in the morning, although she was the one who'd requested to leave early. It was annoying because he could have used that extra half-hour to sleep; after all, it was _her _fault he slept so poorly.

After she'd disappeared back into her room, he'd spent some time considering their conversation and her admission before actually going to bed. It was only when he resigned himself to sleep and the room was dark that he realized something; the door between their rooms was open. Just an inch, but she hadn't pulled it shut the whole way. A slice of light shone through for several minutes, and then extinguished, signifying that she'd likely finished her nighttime routine and laid down to sleep herself.

For some reason, that open door drove him positively crazy. Surely it hadn't been a mistake; she'd intended to give up that inch of privacy, take away just a little of the barrier that still stood between them. Or…he was wrong, and she just hadn't pulled hard enough, indeed had no idea that she had done so. In either case, he stared through the dark at it for at least an hour before exhaustion pulled him to sleep.

He dreamt then of rising from his bed and crossing that open door, watching it fall easily and silently open with a slight push. She was lying in her bed, sleeping peacefully and looking much smaller than when she was awake with her perfect posture and carriage. It felt like the most natural thing in the universe to crawl under the covers with her, pulling her snug against his chest while she stirred and murmured her welcome.

"_Bones," _he whispered, brushing his lips against the velvet of her cheek as her sleep-warmed body melded to his. "_I'm not a hundred percent perfect. Not even close. But I'm a hundred percent yours."_

She smiled at him, the slow, brilliant, sexy kind that never failed to make his heart pound. _"That's all I need," _she whispered back.

He beamed back, her words releasing the vise gripping at his heart. He kissed her, and she responded in kind, sweetly and deeply. They traded these slow, languorous kisses for an eternity, him enjoying the feel of her, loving the touch of her, knowing that they had all the time in the world…

The alarm went off before he even had her clothes off.

"Jesus," he'd moaned, fumbling for the lamp. It was still dark, and he felt like he'd had no sleep at all. When he stood, it was his enormous erection leading the way to the bathroom. "I don't even know how to have a fucking wet dream right."

"Did you say something?" she called from the other room. Of _course _she was awake already. He reeled into the bathroom before she could come and check on him. The last thing he needed was for her to see him in this state. She'd be educating him about nocturnal erections the whole way home.

By the time he was done in the shower and dressed, he'd heard her talking quietly on the phone, and resigned himself to waiting for her. As he always did.

--

"I called Gabrielle," she said quietly as she drove. "I wanted to apologize to her."

"You guys buds again?" he asked carefully. He knew full well that Bones was conflicted about her actions yesterday; while she wasn't proud of them, _apologizing _for them was probably a step further than she'd prefer to take. Bones never hit people unless she thought they deserved it.

"Yes. I believe so. She was very understanding." She didn't elaborate, but glanced over at him. "How about you? Are you and she going to be 'buds'?" The worded sounded funny coming from her usually-scientific lips.

"I don't know what we're going to be, Bones." He knew that he was honest in his promise to keep in contact with Gabby, and not much beyond that.

"Does that bother you?" she asked. Now, she was staring straight ahead to the road, but he felt that it was almost an effort for her to keep doing so. "Not knowing what you're going to be?"

Sometimes, despite her tendencies toward being overly literal, he could swear that she wasn't talking about anybody else but the two of them. He wouldn't let her get away with it. "I think you know the answer to that."

That silenced her; an almost chastised expression took residence on her face, and the ride was quiet for another good twenty minutes. In that time, he snuck glances at her.

She surprised him, even when she shouldn't. He knew that her beautiful face and slender body belied her strength and feisty nature, but when those parts of her were revealed, he always still had a moment of shock and awe. Imagining his father's flabbergasted expression when she responded to his friendly greeting with a fist to the jaw…he didn't know whether to groan, or chuckle.

The words were out of his mouth before he realized he was going to ask them.

"How did he look?"

Her head swiveled in surprise, both at the sound of his voice after the long silence, and at the question. "Your father?"

Realizing what he asked, his mind frantically backtracked. Jesus. Why had he asked? Why did he _care? _"I…you just…never mind, Bones."

She stared for as long as she dared before turning her attention back to the highway. The silence that fell between them was tenser than before, and he could feel her struggle over and above his own. Finally, she gave up.

"He looked…completely normal. Healthy. Happy." She spoke the words quietly. "Until…you know."

Although he had told her to forget the question, he wasn't upset at her for answering. The person she described was the man in the picture with Gabrielle. A man who he'd met long ago, but didn't actually know.

"Booth? Are you okay?" She sounded concerned, and he got the reason. He'd been so very touchy about this subject, and now, he'd expressed _interest _in it…and he didn't even quite know why.

"Yeah." He gave her a strained smile. "The whole family thing…you know…old habits die hard." In his pocket, he gave his poker chip a squeeze, reminding himself that the consequences of old habits weren't something he wanted to deal with. Not now, not ever.

--

The next weeks passed with changes; but those changes felt strangely banal, not disconcerting or upsetting or odd in the least. He called Gabby every Tuesday night. He didn't know why he chose Tuesday; maybe after the first time, it became a comforting habit. Settling into his overstuffed armchair, he'd mute whatever comedy show was on TV and dial her…number 6 on his speed-dial. He'd always start the conversation the same way.

"What's shakin', Gabster?"

He could hear her smile over the phone, somehow, and it pleased him.

She told him about school and her activities, every event seeming to have the dire importance only a college student could muster. She was having struggles with the new editor of the literary journal (Von's graduation from the position had struck her as a particularly difficult change), and asked his advice.

"The articles I submit are tons better than the sophomore drivel they usually publish, but she picks them apart like I'm new at this. She has this air about her like she thinks I was published so often before because of nepotism, but that's _crap."_

"Don't worry about her 'air'," he told her. "Take it as a challenge to do better, _be _better. You can't make people give up their biases, Gabs. You can't cry when things are harder than they should be. All you can do is prove not just that you're good, but that you're _great."_

She listened to him, and seemed to _really _consider it.

Another time, they talked about Bones.

"I'm impressed by her," Gabrielle told him. "She's kind of nuts. But amazing. She does everything full throttle, huh?"

"That's Bones," he agreed, with affection.

"Sooo…what's the deal with the two of you? Will you get in trouble if the FBI knows you're together? Or what?"

He blinked warily. This conversation _always _came at some point between him and his family members, but it never made it less uncomfortable.

"We aren't together. Not like that."

He could see Gabrielle's suspicious squint in his mind's eye just as clear as if she were there, and her voice told him she very much thought he was playing a practical joke on her. "Bull crap."

"I wouldn't crap you, Gabs. We're friends."

"Von says that a man wouldn't be friends with a woman he wouldn't sleep with in the right circumstance," she said firmly.

That startled him. "That's a very pessimistic view of men, and it's not…" He paused, considering his list of female friends, and realized there wasn't any he could use to defend the untruth of the statement. "It's not nice," he ended lamely, which made her giggle.

"So when you're together, will you get in trouble with the FBI?"

"You're not allowed to ask me any more questions tonight."

She laughed.

Another night, she sounded more subdued, and he asked her what was wrong.

There was a hesitation before she answered. "I'm alright."

He pulled out her line. "Bull crap."

Still, it took a little bit of small talk to get her into the comfortable zone where he might touch on the real problem.

"Wedding stuff is sort of stressing me out."

"Wedding stuff, huh?"

More hesitation, then the truth. "Well, marriage stuff, more like it. I guess. It's a couple months away, and I'm realizing more and more that I barely know anything about the real world, let alone marriage. Do you think it's that much different from living together?"

"The unmarried guy probably isn't the one to ask."

There was a moment of depressed silence, and he felt bad about not having an answer for her.

"What if I'm no good at being a wife?" she asked quietly. "I'm sort of messy around the house, cooking's not really my thing, I'm a little impatient. It hasn't been such a big deal, with both of us being in school and having different schedules. But what if everything changes once we both have jobs, bills, all the mundane responsibilities…what if…?"

"_You _will still be the same person," he interrupted firmly. "You love hard, Gabs, and you mean well. Every new role you take on, you'll put your whole heart into, and that's what kind of wife you'll be. I'm not worried about you."

"I'm glad somebody's not," she replied self-deprecatingly, but he knew his words meant something to her.

As he learned more about her, he naturally started to talk about her more in casual conversation. He got looks of surprise often, and lost count of the number of times people said "I didn't even know you had a sister." With no desire or need to explain the complicated circumstances behind their familial bond, he'd simply answer, "Well, I do."

They talked about almost everything. But not about her father. _Their _father. Booth could feel every time the conversation veered disturbingly close… "I went home this weekend…Mom took me shopping…we had a really nice dinner…" But Gabrielle never went over that line, and he was grateful. Getting to know her was something special in his life, whether he wanted it to be or not; but it remained in the back of his mind where she came from, and where he wished he _hadn't _come from, and if she reminded him of that too much their Tuesday-night phone calls might not seem nearly as pleasurable.

Maybe he wouldn't make them at all.

But for now, he looked forward to their time talking, enjoying the mentoring and her sweet, funny, and youthful perspective on the things in his life.

Because she was his sister. And no matter what _anyone _else thought, she was special.

--

In the midst of the weeks of phone calls with his ever-less mysterious sibling, he and Bones got a case, which meant more time at the Jeffersonian and thankfully, less time to think.

That was, until Max cornered him one day as he left the building.

"Can I talk to you, son?" Brennan's father had just finished with his famous carbon-balloon-inflation experiment; the kids were gone, the lab emptying out.

It always made him smirk when Max "sonned" him. The older man had never been explicit about it, but Booth was _sure _that someday, when they told Max that they were together (because surely, that day was inevitable, _had _to be), he'd smile the smile of a man who got exactly what he wanted.

It was one of the reasons he liked him.

Max motioned for Booth to join him in the abandoned science area, which was now littered with the remnants of the experiment of the day…straws, baking soda, lemon juice, plastic bottles.

"What can I do for you, Max?" he asked him curiously, almost expecting one of his "are you sleeping with my daughter?" speeches.

The man smiled at him, busying himself with tossing the trash piece-by-piece into the nearby garbage can. "Is Tempe okay?" he asked him, concern in his voice.

Booth blinked. "Um. Yeah. As far as I know."

"Hmm." Max's eyes went downcast. "She'd probably tell you first, I'd think."

He sighed. "What's the problem?"

Brennan's father's face lit up, and Booth knew he'd just been itching for him to ask that very question.

"We had that little blip the other month…you know, when she met Janine. But I thought we'd moved past that. She's a reasonable girl. But she's been…just distant lately, and I don't know what to do about it."

For some reason, this irritated him. "Have you tried talking to her?"

"Of course, but you know my daughter. The 'I'm fine' bit."

Booth remembered their conversation in the hotel on the night they delivered Gabby home. It didn't come as a surprise that Bones was remembering it too…the lingering feelings of resentment and hurt towards her parents, that contributed to her impromptu blow against his own father. "Well I guess you'll just have to be patient until she's ready to talk about it." He couldn't seem to help the fact that voice carried a hint of brusqueness. He was getting testy, and needed to get out of here.

Max looked troubled. "Maybe…you could talk to her? She listens to you. You can help her."

That little extra pushing set him off, and he snapped back on a surprised Max Keenan. "You want me to talk her into being more lovey-dovey with you to make _you _feel better."

"Uh…no, that's not…"

"That's exactly it, Max. You want her to laugh and joke with you and call you Daddy so you don't have to think about how much you royally screwed her over when she was too young to do anything about it."

"Son, I don't think…"

"You know what? You should just sit back and thank your lucky stars every day that Bones wants to talk to you at all. That her heart was big enough to let you back in after everything that went down."

The older man finally seemed to make it past his surprise, and into humble. "I do," he replied quietly. "Every day."

Still, whatever was driving his tirade hadn't quite wound down yet. "You want Bones to talk to you? Be honest with you? Maybe you should try apologizing to her again. This time, without all the excuses and the air of _deserving _a relationship with her. Because you don't deserve a daughter like her, Max. And if you ever want to, you need to fucking work harder, and not pawn this crap off on me."

Finally exhausted of the spontaneous burst of aggression, he turned and stalked away, muttering and earning strange looks from the squints he passed.

Now he and Bones were even, even if no punches were thrown this time.

Which sucked, because now he couldn't even _pretend _to be the bigger person.

Pounding through the parking garage all the way to his car, he climbed in and slammed the door behind him. _Shit. _He definitely should _not _have lost his temper like that with Bones' old man. Despite whatever other complicated feelings she had, she _loved _the guy. And now he was probably going to be in deep shit with both of them.

His cell rung in his pocket, and he cursed the timing of whoever was on the other end. Digging it out, he answered roughly with "_What??"_

The man on the other end seemed taken aback. "Agent Booth? This is Captain Behrens from Metro…this a bad time?"

Taking a deep breath, he reined in his irritation. He'd been in touch with Behrens the last six weeks. Hounding him, really. It would be rude to ignore him now. "No. Sorry. What's going on?"

"We got a hit on your ring. Pretty sure it's your girl's…you can come down and check it out at your convenience."

He perked up immediately. "Really. Where did you find it?"

"Pawn shop on Liberty. We took it, tagged it, catalogued it. I know you wanted to know as soon as we had a lead, so…"

"I'll be there in fifteen," he interrupted, starting the car and looking over his shoulder to pull out of the spot.

"There's no rush…" Behrens started, but Booth was already aiming his vehicle toward the west exit…straight toward Metro.

"It's already been too long," he declared. "Thanks, Captain."

Hanging up, he sped out onto the road as fast as he dared.

He felt better already.

--

Later in the evening, he reclined on his couch; the television was on, but he wasn't really paying attention, instead playing with the tiny piece of jewelry he'd procured today. Twisting and turning it thoughtfully, he tried to make it catch the light and reflect in prismatic glory against the walls.

Behrens had been reluctant to hand it over completely; usually they retained pieces like that for a few months until they had amassed considerable evidence against the guilty party. But it had already been processed, and this particular guilty party was already in big trouble (Gabrielle's ring was one of _sixty-three pieces _recovered in the past week, from the same suspected culprit), so a little prodding had got the ring back in Booth's hands. He'd stay involved on the case, pushing for the maximum penalty for the guy responsible for this. Because that's what the dick deserved, for scaring Gabby.

He slipped the tiny silver band on his pinky finger, where it caught on his knuckle. Damn, it was tiny. How long had it been since he held an engagement ring? After his unplanned proposal to Rebecca was decidedly unsuccessful, he'd spent the rest of her pregnancy trying to convince her marriage was a good idea. He'd got her a ring then…not much bigger than this one, because at that point he was still repaying his gambling debts…and presented it to her, figuring she'd have a much harder time saying no with a diamond in front of her.

He had been wrong.

If he ever bought a ring again, it would certainly be more impressive than that one, and more so than the one in front of him now. But _this _one had a meaning that couldn't be measured in carets, so he held tight to it as he grabbed his phone with his other hand and dialed Gabby's number.

It was Thursday, and he knew for a fact that she had band practice late into the evening, so it didn't surprise him when he was sent to her voice mail. "What's shakin', Gabster? I know it's not our usual night, but…" He held up the tiny pear-shaped sparkler and examined it again. "I think I might have something of yours, that you'll sort of maybe want back. Give me a call tomorrow, 'kay?"

Hanging up, he put down the phone, and carefully returned the ring to the tiny plastic bag in which it was given to him. Relaxing back into the cushions, he found himself imagining her expression when she listened to the message. She'd know immediately what he was talking about. And she'd smile for the rest of the night.

As he fell asleep to the ignored sound of the TV, he was smiling too.

--

Bones came to his office the next day.

He'd been in a good mood, looking forward to talking to Gabrielle and returning what had been taken from her the last time she was here. Normally a visit from Bones would cheer him even more, but…

The instant he saw her, he cringed instantly. Shit, shit, shit. She was going to bitch at him for his harsh words to Max, he knew it.

He shouldn't have done it. Max had only been asking for help with his relationship with his daughter, and Booth could have dismissed him without angry words. Now Bones was going to give him the "I can take care of myself" speech for the thousandth time.

"Hey there, partner. To what to I owe the pleasure?" he asked, wincing even as the words came out.

"Just wanted to see you."

Bones never _just _wanted to see him, and he knew it.

She glanced carefully around his office. "What's going on?"

"I found Gabs' ring," he told her, wanting to share that bit of good news before the shitstorm hit.

"Really? That's wonderful!" She seemed genuinely enthused.

"It is. I'm just waiting for her to tell me how to get it back to her. She's gonna be so pumped."

Her eyebrows furrowed at "pumped," but she didn't respond with her trademark confused phrase. There was silence for a moment, and he wished she'd just start laying into him because waiting for it was worse than dealing with it. He decided to just beat her to the punch.

"So…you talk to your Dad lately?" It was about as subtle as a brick to the head. Look at him, taking lessons from Bones.

"Yes," she said, nodding. Nothing more.

He sighed. "And…did he tell you about our conversation?"

"No."

Well, _that _one he didn't expect. "Oh…" Then what _was _she here for…?

"But Angela told me about it. She overheard and saw you leaving the lab yesterday."

Oh, _there _we go. Taking a deep breath, he stood up from his desk and circled it, wanting to apologize to her face. Max might have deserved the sentiment, but Bones shouldn't have to deal with her partner losing his shit on the man she was _trying _to have a decent relationship with. "He just caught me at a bad time, Bones. I promise I won't…"

Before he could finish, her arms were around him, her face buried into his shoulder.

"Whoa." Even though he was reeling from the surprise gesture of affection, his arms automatically circled her, wrapping around her back and holding her tightly. "What's this for?"

Her voice was muffled against his shirt. "I don't know."

He blinked. It was hard to think clearly with her body pressed against him. "You…approve?"

"No." She turned her head so she'd be clearer, the movement dragging her silky hair across his cheek and nearly making him swoon with the sweet, clean scent. "But…" she hesitated. "I'm irrationally happy that you care so much."

"Awh, Bones." She hadn't yet made a move to pull back from the embrace, and hell if he was going to encourage such a movement. He rubbed her back gently, resisting the urge to cup the back of her head and stroke her hair. "I understand that."

He understood it because he'd felt it too, the minute Gabby had told him about his partner's swift yet explosive outburst against his own father. They really _were _even.

Bones backed off, just a little, her hands still resting on his arms and his on her waist. He'd be damned if he let go before she did. She gave him a tentative and slightly embarrassed smile…the one she used whenever she had to admit to irrationality.

"Of course I care," he soothed, returning the smile and filling with warmth. Yes…he _wanted _her to know what it felt like to have someone go to bat for her, someone being absurdly protective and _insisting _on her being treated well. She didn't _need _it, but she deserved it.

And looking at her grateful face caused a surge of masculinity to flow through him. He was a man, standing up for _his _woman, holding and touching her because that's how a man treated the woman he loved. And everything else be damned, he wanted to kiss her.

What would it hurt? Just one kiss…one token of affection, one brief press against the peppermint lips he remembered from two Christmases ago. Surely just _that _wouldn't ruin all the progress they'd made, all the months/years of patient waiting. Surely it would feel like the most natural, perfect thing in the world, to _both _of them, at this place in their relationship…

He looked into the depths of her blue-green eyes, and swore he saw them darken. Her tongue darted out and touched her lips.

Surely, he wasn't going to be able to stop.

And he was going to do it. His face was moving forward without his brain giving it permission to do so yet. His mouth was parting and he could nearly taste her sweet breath.

Until the phone rang. Tom Petty's _American Girl._

"Gabby," Bones said, releasing him.

The call he'd been waiting for all morning.

As he answered to his sister's ear-splitting squeal, he thought that now he _knew _Gabby was related to him, being that she shared with him her impeccable timing.

--

**A/N: You still with me, peoples? Talk to me.**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hai. Remember me? Abandoner of fic. Disappointer of fangirls. All around horrible person.;-)**

**But as it happens I've been picking away at this chapter for awhile, so if you're still interested, plz to enjoy!**

**A synopsis of the last chapter to save you some time: Booth found Gabs' ring, but his good mood was challenged when he confronted Max about feeling entitled to Brennan's love. Brennan was "irrationally happy" that Booth cared enough to stand up for her and went to his office to thank him. Booth almost gave in to his urge to kiss her when Gabby called him back about her ring.**

**And now you're all caught up on AFM! Thanks to nicolemack for lookingks over, lizook for her poetry assistance, and mia101 for being my best friend and still caring about all of this.**

**--**

They had spent a large portion of the therapy session talking (bickering) about Bones' interrogation skills (or lack thereof), with her insisting that if Booth just taught her the basics, her steep learning curve would take over quickly, and him insisting that both of their time was…better spent elsewhere. Like teaching her plumbing. Or hockey terminology. Or _anything else. _It was an inane argument; Bones didn't _really _have a burning desire to learn the art of interrogation, and he wasn't all that intent on keeping her _out _of the interrogation room. But the discussion was a good alternative to talking about what had been going on between her, and her father, and Booth—and he was willing to help her out with avoiding that one. Booth knew what Sweets was like when he got a whiff of family drama. A dog with a bone.

Unfortunately, the conversation petered out at about twenty 'til the hour. They could bicker with the best of them, but apparently their limit on one topic they didn't care much about was forty minutes.

"So…what else is going on?" Sweets looked at them expectantly, and Booth had to give the kid credit; he _always _knew when something different was going on. There was no obfuscating with him forever, 12 years old or not.

Bones nudged his shoulder. "Tell him, Booth."

Crap. He knew what she was talking about, and it _wasn't _their little run-in with Max. "It's really not a big deal."

"Then it's not a big deal to tell me," Sweets countered.

He sighed. Might as well get it over with, and it _still _was a better alternative than making poor Bones talk about Max right now. "Gabrielle's coming back to D.C to get her ring. This weekend."

"Ah." The young doctor's eyebrows rose while Bones nodded. Why did they have to make everything such a big production? "You couldn't have sent it to her?"

"I could have, and I would have, but she asked if she could come and visit and I said yes."

"Is she coming alone?"

"Yes. I think she needs a little breather from the wedding stuff. A little vacation, you know."

"How long is she staying with you?"

"Just through the weekend, I said." He shifted, getting irritated.

"How do you feel about all this?"

"I _feel _like my sister is coming to visit and I hope we have a nice time without people being _weird _about it." He gave a pointed look at Bones, whose eyes widened indignantly.

"I haven't gotten weird," she objected.

"And you better not," Booth nodded.

Truthfully, he wasn't terribly nervous about Gabby's visit; when she suggested it during their conversation last week (during her inconveniently- or perfectly-timed call, depending on how he looked at it moment-to-moment), he'd agreed automatically. In their time getting to know each other over the phone, the awkwardness of two people artificially shoved together had faded; he found himself _wanting _to see her again and spend time together that wasn't so damn heavy, like it was last time. He figured he'd show her the sights she'd missed during her last trip, maybe take her to one of the free military band concerts at the Capitol--and, of course, see her beam when he put her engagement band back in her hands. It sounded nice.

But he'd forgotten he'd have to deal with nosy people; first and foremost, the psychologist on the couch across from him.

"Okay, okay." Sweets held up his hands in a pacifying gesture. "It's just an interesting shift; it wasn't so long ago that you never wanted to see her again. Your openness is very nice, but…it came very fast."

"Jeesh, I just can't please you people," he groused. "When I didn't want to talk to her, everybody made me feel like a stubborn asshole. Now that I do…it's too fast." Glancing at the two sets of well-meaning eyes around him, he gave a relenting sigh. "People can change their minds, you know."

Bones spoke softly. "I, for one, admire your flexibility and openness to change."

Bless her heart--no matter how concerned she was about him, and he _knew _she was…she _always _would take his side against Sweets. Booth gave her a weak smile. "Thanks, Bones."

Sweets wasn't quite ready to let this go. "So are you going to introduce her to Parker?"

Oh, c'mon. "I hadn't thought about it."

"How about Jared? Your grandfather? How much are you going to integrate her into your life?"

After Bones' brief diffusion, he found himself getting irritated again. "Jesus, Sweets. Can't I just visit with my sister without it being a huge production? It's just one weekend. And she's coming to see _me. _I don't see why it has to be anyone else's business."

Sweets smiled sagely, in that way he sometimes did that belied his adolescent exterior. "Isn't that what family is, though? A bunch of people who are in your business, whether or not you want them to be?"

He silenced an internal groan.

The doctor tented his fingers and leaned forward. "The thing is, Booth—whether or not _you _think it's a 'huge production,' this is something important in your life. Gabby affects _you; _so she automatically affects the people who love you, too. You can certainly do this at your own pace, but the fact is that you can't keep your worlds separate forever. It might behoove you to think of how to introduce those two worlds in the way of your choosing, so they don't collide on their own."

This was…not how he wanted to spend his Thursday afternoon. "You know what, Sweets? I _can _do what I want. And I will," he snapped, glancing up at the clock. It was five minutes before their normal ending time, but he stood anyway. "I've got some work to do."

Bones stood too, not to be abandoned here alone with Sweets. "We've got some work to do," she half-echoed and half-amended.

Sweets knew when he was beat. "Okay, I guess we can wrap up a little earlier. If you need to talk again before your sister comes…"

"I won't," he responded curtly, placing his hand on Bones' back for unneeded guidance out the door. Sometimes he worried there would come a time when the kid would push the wrong buttons and he'd pop him one.

When they were safely out of the building, Bones glanced at him. "You okay?"

"Yeah." He gave her smile that aimed for reassuring but probably just looked stressed. "Therapy, ya know? Just not really my thing."

She looked up at him, squinting slightly in the sunlight. "Yes, I know." They were quiet on the short walk through the parking lot and seemed to come to an unspoken mutual decision to linger outside for a few seconds before getting back in the Sequoia. She leaned against the side of it and took a big breath of the warm air. "I'm going to try…not to be weird, okay?"

He had to hold back a chuckle. "I wasn't _really _talking about you, Bones. People can just be…collectively weird."

"Nonetheless." She fussed in her purse for her sunglasses before slipping them on. It disappointed him a little, to have the blue of her eyes obscured by the dark lenses. "I think it's nice that you are being a brother to Gabrielle. And I don't think anybody has the right to tell you _how _to do that."

It felt good, to have her on his side. He felt some of the tension from inside the therapy room drain away and he grinned at her, gratified at the lopsided smile she gave him back. "Thanks. That's what I keep you around for. Your lack of weirdness." He gave her a wink.

"I thought you kept me around because I'm the most intelligent and skilled forensic anthropologist in the country."

"Incidental," he teased, and she laughed graciously, understanding his humor with startling speed. She'd come a long way, and it delighted him every time he got evidence of that. As per usual, in those moments, he felt the familiar desire to pull her close, kiss her.

But…he didn't.

He didn't know whether or not Bones had known his intent, the few seconds before Gabby had called and interrupted them. At the moment it happened, he'd been so sure that he saw acknowledgement in her eyes…understanding, acceptance—_desire. _He'd been about to kiss her, but more importantly, _she wanted him to. _He had been so certain.

But then, later, after he talked to Gabby and the world stopped spinning and everything was…well, _normal _again…it didn't seem so clear. Bones didn't mention it again, and although he surreptitiously searched her face as often as he could, he couldn't find that _permission _there, like he'd thought he saw before. And hell, he hadn't waited this long to ruin it all with a push before she was ready. He was going to play it safe. Even when it practically killed him not to be able to touch her.

"Have you talked to Max yet?" he asked her carefully. They hadn't discussed their subterfuge in the therapy room before it happened, but he never doubted that it was well on her mind.

"Not yet." She glanced downward, scuffing her shoe on the pavement. "But I will. Still trying to figure out what I want to say to him."

"Got any ideas?"

"Not good ones. Maybe something like…sometimes the only thing stopping me from hating your guts is how much I love you." She looked embarrassed, even as she chuckled regretfully at her words. "How stupid is that, right?"

"You don't do stupid, Bones," he assured her, reaching out and brushing her hair from her shoulder. It felt warm from the sunlight. "Should we go?"

"We should." Pushing herself off the side of the car, she allowed him to open the door for her before she climbed inside. He circled back around, enjoying the last breath of fresh air before shutting himself in the too-hot car.

She fiddled with the air conditioner when he turned on the engine. "I was thinking…"

"Yes?" He glanced over at her pause. Bones didn't often hesitate.

"Maybe…we can all go out for dinner or something. When Gabby comes."

He wasn't expecting _that _proposition. "Who's 'we all'?" he questioned.

"Our colleagues. Angela and Hodgins and Cam…Sweets, if you want."

His first reaction was a defensive one; _why _would he want to share Gabrielle with the squints, of all people? "Have you been talking to them about Gabs?"

"What? No. You know I don't gossip, Booth." That was true, and he knew it. "They're just…our friends. And I think they'd make her feel welcome, and I think…even if you don't want to do all the other things Sweets talked about, sometimes it's nice to share important things with your friends." She was looking embarrassed again, vulnerable. "Right?"

Well, hell. Not so long ago, this was the kind of speech he'd be making to _her. _She'd been learning well…it would chagrin him if it wasn't so endearing. He smiled wearily at her. "Right. Let me get back to you on that one, Bones."

She was obviously pleased enough by that, leaning back against her seat with a satisfied expression.

He drove and wondered exactly what it would look and sound and feel like, when worlds collide.

--

Gabby squealed like a much younger girl when she saw Booth in the airport late Friday evening, making him roll his eyes and laugh in pleasure at her exuberance.

"_Seeley!!" _ She threw herself at him in relief as if she'd been traveling all day, rather than for 40 minutes.

Her excitement was catching, and he lifted her a little bit when he hugged her. When he set her down, he reached in his pocket for the tiny plastic bag he'd been carrying around…the one with the tiny shining engagement band. He presented it to her with a flourish.

She turned solemn as she took it from him, looking at him with shining eyes. "You are my second-favorite human being on the planet."

"The first being the person who gave you the ring the first time, of course."

"No, the first being whoever invented the lemon-drop martini," she teased. She carefully pulled the ring from the bag and slipped it back on her finger—home again—and let out a satisfied sigh.

He grinned at her, and felt almost crazily proud of himself. "C'mon. Let's get out of here." He tossed an arm around her shoulder and they walked.

They chatted on the way back to the parking garage, where he tossed her small bag in the back seat and opened the door for her. He had _Full Moon Fever _loaded up on the music player, which made her grin. "Awh," she said. "We have a _thing."_

"Sure do," he agreed, cranking up "Yer So Bad" for a few bars as he made a show of pealing out of the garage. When they got on the road, he turned the volume back down. "So what's been shakin', Gabster?"

"Same old. School. The journal. Band. Wedding stuff. I've been writing a lot. It helps me deal with the stress."

"You know, I don't think I've _ever _written something that somebody didn't force me to." He glanced over at her and smiled. "Looks like you got all the creative genes."

"I even wrote a poem about you."

That made him raised an amused eyebrow. "A _poem?"_

"Yup. On the plane"

"I don't think anybody's ever written a poem about me."

"That you know of," she teased, then she paused. "I don't know if you'll like it."

"Well, try me."

She dug around awkwardly in her bag, which was in the seat behind her, but finally made a sound of triumph when she pulled out a small notebook. She flipped it open and produced a penlight which let her read in the dark of the car, running her thumb through the pages until she stopped on one. Glancing up, she gave him a small smile. "You sure?"

"Are _you _sure?"

"Oh, _I'm sure." _

She cleared her throat and began to read.

"_Watching_

_Waiting_

_Calculating_

_Eyes trained on the mark_

_There's no 'cocky' in the shadows_

_And no swagger in the dark._

_Watching_

_Waiting_

_Anticipating_

_A careful, ready grip_

_There's no aiming for the target_

_When you're shooting at the hip._

_Watching_

_Waiting_

_Contemplating_

_A slow and steady start_

_There's no rushing to the trigger_

_When you have to hit the heart."_

Finishing, she stared at the page for a moment longer before switching her eyes up to meet his, to gauge his reaction.

He was a little dumbstruck…not even by the poem itself, he didn't know enough about poetry to even be able to judge its quality…but the thought that she would write it for him, and about him, that she could understand enough of him (and _so fast) _to communicate it in such an eloquent way.

"Oh my God, you hate it, don't you," she said at his silence, dropping her head back against the headrest.

"Stop. Drama queen." He shook his head. "It's great. You're great." He gave a reassuring half-smile.

She looked a little suspicious, but accepted the compliment, putting her notebook back into her backpack and pulling up in knees to sit in what did _not _look to be a comfortable position.

"Although I think you give me a little too much credit for patience. I told you about my clown-shooting incident, right?"

She tilted her head, patterns forming across her face as they passed streetlamps. "I think you're incredibly patient in all situations _not _involving circus folk."

Reaching over, he briefly ruffled her hair the way he often did with Parker, a way she was probably too old for. "I think _you're _very, very creative." He meant it. It struck him that she would probably _love _Angela.

Hell, she was affable enough that she would probably get along with just about anyone.

What Bones had said the other day, about their friends, ran through his head, but he pushed it aside for now. He had just one important hurdle he planned to get through this weekend, and then maybe he'd get to everything else.

"Listen, Gabs…I don't know what you hoped to do in the next few days, and we can talk about that later. But…if you want…" He was hedging, maybe not wanting to admit even to himself that he'd taken Sweets' advice. "I talked to Parker's mom, and she said we could stop by for a little while in the morning. So you could meet him. If, you know, that's still something you're interested in."

If Gabby was surprised, she disguised it well. But she _didn't _disguise her excitement. "Of _course," _she replied vehemently, and he could see her eyes gleaming even in the low light.

Family was important to Gabrielle. This would make her happy. He _knew _it would make her happy.

Family was important to him, too. So _why _did this part make him feel so trepidatious?

Maybe because he was worried about all the other questions. Even when he'd talked to Rebecca yesterday evening, uncertainty had permeated her voice. _I don't know. How well do you even know this person? _She had paused, and he could anticipate what was coming next before she said it. _I don't want Parker involved with your father, Seeley. If that's what this is leading to… _It had almost been enough to make him forget the whole thing, tell her he'd just see Parker next weekend, as planned.

But he just took a deep breath, and told her the truth. It was just Gabby. There's no way _that _could hurt Parker. And she'd agreed eventually. Success.

Still…

Gabrielle studied him for a moment, and whether it was out of sympathy for his struggle or simple impulsivity, she changed the topic. "Hey." A slow smile. "Maybe by the time I leave, you'll be writing poetry for _me."_

"Ha!" he snorted. "Sorry babe. I'm not a poet."

"You never know what you might turn out to be," she replied enigmatically, giving him a wink, and he wondered how she so easily transitioned between immature and wise.

--

He took her to breakfast in the diner in the morning, and they planned a few activities for their short time together. The rest of the meal was spent trading stories and jokes.

"So where's the illustrious Dr. Brennan this weekend?" Gabby asked at one point, scooping up the last of her pancakes.

Booth smirked. "Around. Probably has a couple dates with a few old, dead guys."

She wrinkled her nose and paused before her last bite. "Gross."

"Tell me about it." He sipped his coffee.

"So when's the wedding?" she asked, a smile curling at her lips before she hid them by wiping her mouth with the napkin.

"Hey," he scolded, shaking his fork at her. "You worry about your own wedding. Don't be planning mine."

Her big brown eyes grew round and innocent. "I _meant _between Dr. Brennan and her old, dead dates." Mischief crept into her voice. "So quick to self-insert."

How did she do that? He tried to force down the flush he felt threatening his face. "Don't get smart with me, Gabrielle Booth." It occurred to him that the use of her name didn't have quite the impact he wanted, and then realized why. "I don't know your middle name."

"Most people don't," she said easily, leaning back in her seat and putting a hand on her full stomach. "It's…old fashioned, sort of." She didn't look…troubled, exactly. But he recognized her moment of pause.

"You're not going to tell me?" he prodded, still thinking she was being bratty and teasing him.

Her eyes flicked up, smile ghosting on her lips. "Henrietta."

Oh. _That _was the pause. A strange, surreal sense came over him. "After your grandfather."

She nodded. "So I've been told." Her face turned wistful, and her eyes turned down, seeming to struggle for a second. This was the first awkward moment they'd had in their past several weeks of talking on the phone and now, in person.

His father had named Gabby after _Pops?? _The man who had told him he was a disgrace, kicked him out of his home and told him never to come back? A man who the woman across from him had never met. Jesus. Who _was _this person, who raised Gabby?

He was at a loss for words for a second, and when they came back he spoke slowly. "You should be proud of that name. You're named after a good man. The _best _man."

A man who had no clue of her existence.

For a poignant moment he was reminded that despite the easiness that he and Gabby had achieved, there was this strange abyss of ignored history there. Each of them had experiences the other was desperately curious about, but afraid to ask.

It…wasn't time for that. It might never be.

She knew it. She changed the subject gracefully and quickly. "Hey, we should get going, should we? You said Rebecca was expecting us around 10:30, right?"

He nodded slowly. "Right."

While they walked out, he tried to prepare himself for the challenge in front of him, and turn off the part of his brain that was trying to figure out just how Hank would respond, if he told him he had a granddaughter.

--

"Seeley." His ex greeted him with a cool smile, leaning against the doorjamb.

"Becca. You're looking well."

Typically, their interactions weren't this stilted, but both were now keenly aware of the oddness of this situation.

"Gabrielle, this is Rebecca Stinson, Parker's mother. Rebecca, this is Gabby Booth."

Rebecca looked her up and down, a smile coming to her lips. "Hmm. You _look _like a Booth, don't you."

Gabby was on her best behavior, and she beamed. "Thank you, ma'am. That's nice of you."

The older woman laughed. "Yup, you're a Booth alright." She shook her hand. "Come on in, have a seat. Park's in his room, I'll get him."

They entered the house and Gabrielle took a seat on the easy chair. Booth whispered to Rebecca briefly, out of Gabby's earshot . "Does Park know that Gabs…?"

"Nope," she whispered. "This one's aaall on you, Seeley."

That's what he was afraid of.

Rebecca disappeared down the hall.

Booth gave Gabby a nervous look, and found _her _looking completely calm.

"Relax," she said, winking. "Kids love me. They find me relatable."

At that very moment, Parker skidded across the hardwood floor of the hallway and into Booth's arms. "Daaaaddy!"

He lifted him and gave him a bear hug. "Hey there buddy." Anymore, he wanted to hold onto the kid until he squirmed to get away. He could feel Parker's impending grownup-ness with every visit, and he knew it wouldn't be so long from now until Daddy's were always Dads, and these exuberant hugs turned more reserved. But for now, Parker was still a bright, excitable kid, and he tried to enjoy every moment of it.

Upon being dropped back to the floor, the little boy swiveled to the stranger in the room. "Who's she?" Parker asked, staring at Gabby with the complete unabashedness of a child. For the first time, their matching eyes met. _So much alike._

Gabby deferred to Booth. Rebecca, who had followed Parker back out to the living room, raised her eyebrows expectantly.

"She's…" Booth hedged. Dare he say it? "This is Gabrielle. She's related to us."

"Oh. Like Brittany and Keith?" Those were Rebecca's sister's kids—Parker's cousins-- and he realized that with Parker's curiosity and persistence, he might not be able to get out of this one.

"No. Gabs here is your aunt."

Parker blinked. "Did she get married to Uncle Jared?"

"NO." The thought was so surreal that it made him explode with the answer before he reeled his horror back in. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rebecca holding back a laugh. "No, Bub, she's…" He wracked his brain of how to tell him without making his son curious about his grandfather. "She's…"

"Do you like frogs?' The little boy had lost all interest in anything Booth was saying and was leaning on chair beside his new friend Gabrielle. No hi, no how are you. Booth would have to remind him of his manners. Some other time.

Gabby laughed. "Sure, I like all amphibians. Frogs, toads, newts. I used to hunt salamanders in the creek out back of my house."

"You _did?" _Parker's eyes brightened. "Did you ever catch any?"

"Um, _yeah. _I was the best salamander-catcher in my whole neighborhood. Better than the boys."

"Whoa!"

And she was accepted. Just like that.

Booth shook his head in amazement, falling to the couch and watching for a bit as his sister and his son chattered animatedly about all things that could be found in a pond, then about a series of topics that he couldn't quite keep up with. He couldn't believe that he'd been worried about this. He'd forgotten how much simpler it was for kids…kids didn't over-think stuff.

Rebecca sidled in beside him. "Our son's the friendly sort, isn't he?"

"I guess so." He observed for another moment before Parker piped up to the other adults.

"Mom, Aunt Gabby says she knows how to get to the mirror levels on Mario Kart. Can we go to the playroom?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about. But sure." His mother pushed his hair from his face. "Go ahead, Daddy and I will be in to watch you in a minute."

"Cool!" the boy enthused, grabbing Gabby's hand and half-dragging her to the other room.

"Nice to see you too, son," Booth groused good-naturedly at being forgotten so easily, while Rebecca gave him an amused look. "Jeesh. So quickly replaced."

"Well you've already _seen _all his toys. What fun are you?" she said, smiling and circling the couch. "She seems nice."

He nodded, grabbing a pillow and flipping it in his hands a few times. "She is."

"Seeley?"

"Yeah?"

The blonde eased down on the couch beside him. "What are you doing with this girl?"

He sighed. "I don't know. Getting to know her. Trying to be a brother to her."

"Not trying to be a father to her?"

That bothered him, and he glared at her. "Becca."

"I'm sorry. But we both know that sometimes your nobleness gets you into trouble."

"As far as I can tell, she already has a father. A good one."

Her face turned sympathetic. "Damn."

"Yeah well." He tried for a nonchalant shrug that would never fool someone as sharp as Rebecca Stinson.

"This can't be easy on you."

"Nothing worth doing is ever easy."

"Don't minimize it, Seeley." She was quiet for a moment before speaking again. "You know, I want to be supportive of however you choose to handle this situation. But…I don't like bringing people into Parker's life who aren't going to stay there. If this is something that's going to blow up soon…"

Laughter emanated from the other room, along with the electronic sounds of whatever video game Gabby and Parker were playing. It provided a strange counterpoint to the seriousness in Rebecca's tone.

"Beck, I don't know what's going to happen."

She leaned on her elbow, regarding him carefully. "I really hope it's something that is good in your life. You deserve that. Just…be careful."

Another burst of childlike laughter; this had been so easy. In these moments, he wondered if he and Rebecca and Sweets and _everybody _were just overreacting. Just him and his sister, nothing complicated about that.

"You don't have to worry about me," he told her. And he said it with such conviction that he actually sort of believed it.

--

After they left Rebecca's place, they were tourists. He took Gabby to the National Gallery of Art and the Veterans Memorial and Dupont Circle. He impressed her with his knowledge of historical facts and was gratified to find someone who balked just as much as he did at the thought of visiting Ford's Theatre. The day was pleasant but tiring, and by the time the sky started to darken their feet were a little sore. She suggested ice cream from one of the stands in the park, and they both got cones and sauntered towards the nearest park bench for a rest.

"I love Parker. He's an awesome kid," she told him, licking the perimeter of the cone to prevent dripping in the warm night.

"Yeah, I sort of think so too," Booth agreed, performing a similar maneuver with his own ice cream. "And he seems to like you too. Maybe the next time you come down, we can plan a little better and go to the Aquarium together. Given your shared affinity for slimy things." He nudged her.

"I'd like that," she agreed, slowing her stride as they approached the bench. The hesitation in her step was telling.

"Something on your mind, Gabs?"

She sat down on the bench. He suddenly felt jittery, and he stayed standing for the moment.

"Sooo. I'm kind of selfish. And sneaky."

"You are, huh?"

"Yup."

"How so?" He asked the question not even really sure he wanted to know now; her tone was worrying him and he just _hated _for their lovely day to take a turn into tense.

"I didn't just want to come to get my ring and hang out. I wanted to talk to you about something important and wanted to do it while we were together—not on the phone."

The hint of tension in his gut ratcheted up another notch. "Uh oh. Why so serious?"

She jiggled, looking everywhere but him. "Look, I just…you know, I'm really glad you gave me a chance, Seel. I can't even tell you how much I've appreciated having you to talk to. You've just been so great, and…"

"Enough with the buttering. Out with it," he instructed. Drawing it out was _not _helping him feel better.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes—and opened them. "I want you to come to my wedding."

Damn.

He should have seen that one coming. He should have _known. _

But…he hadn't.

"Gabs…"

"I know," she interrupted. "It's a lot to ask. I…don't presume to know everything you must be feeling and thinking about our father. I can't imagine what it would be like for you to be there and see the family I grew up with. I can't imagine it because we haven't talked about it."

This was too much for him right now. This was…

But she was on a roll, and didn't want to stop until it was all out. "If you can't, I'm not going to blame you. I don't want anything to ruin what we've got here, Seel. But it's going to be such a special day for me, and…I'd like my big brother to be there."

Her voice caught on the words _big brother_. She was obviously trying to be straightforward, practical. But her face had grown pink, her eyes shiny, and _god _he hated it when she looked like this…young and vulnerable and _needing him._

He sighed, easing onto the bench. "Gabs. You're killing me."

"I know. I'm sorry."

"What you're asking…"

"…Isn't fair. I know. But I want it anyway. And I _had _to ask."

He wanted to be angry at her for putting him in this position. But now, looking at her, he couldn't bring himself to feel that way. She had been right, that asking him face-to-face was the best way to do this. He wasn't going to do anything in the moment to make that familiar, sweet face cry.

"You don't have to answer now. The wedding's not for two months. Just…think about it."

He didn't respond for a moment.

"Promise?" she begged, and he couldn't let her hanging.

He forced a smile, reached out and squeezed her shoulder. "Yeah. I promise. I'll think about it."

Like he could help it.

--

**A/N: I know, this chap was a little B/B-lite, but it was necessary to get to the good stuff. And I KNOW you want good stuff;)**


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